


Vermillion

by Papillon87



Series: Freefall [2]
Category: ASTRO (Band), Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampires, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood Drinking, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Polyamory, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Not an awful lot of fluff I'm afraid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-01-23 04:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21313972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papillon87/pseuds/Papillon87
Summary: The cacophony of smells in the room is almost overwhelming, the human blood in all its intense beauty making him feel faint.Tonight, Minhyuk is not swayed.The only thing that matters is that somewhere here, amongst the faintly-lit pliant curves, the hushed words and soft moans, amidst all the delicious scents, there is the one and only fragrance which has been haunting him for a year.It’s time to find Dongmin.
Relationships: Im Changkyun | I.M/Yoo Kihyun, Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo/Moon Bin, Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo/Park Minhyuk | Rocky, Park Jinwoo | Jin Jin/Kim Myungjun | MJ/Lee Hoseok | Wonho
Series: Freefall [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1522376
Comments: 110
Kudos: 118





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To clarify - Minhyuk mentioned in this chapter is Astro's Minhyuk. Clearly I didn't plan ahead when I was writing Part 1. I guess I should have used his stage name - Rocky - to avoid the double Minhyuk confusion but hindsight is always a beautiful thing.

‘Why do you want to join Mephisto?’

Minhyuk shrugs and squirms a little uncomfortably in his chair. ‘Jinwoo thinks I need to go out more. That I am moping at home too much.’

Sitting at a rather imposing desk, Kihyun pops his knuckles and offers a small smile.

‘Fair enough. At least you are not trying to feed me some nonsense about how amazing our establishment is. Although I do hope you chose us because of our excellent reputation, Mr Park.’

He doesn’t know what to say to that. The truth – I don’t want to be here but my maker thinks it will be good for my mood – doesn’t seem fitting for the occasion.

Luckily, the question appears to be purely rhetorical. His companion leans back in his leather chair and smiles, this time for real. Minhyuk notices how the smile transforms his sharp, attractive features into something softer, more innocent than it has been mere moments ago. He vaguely wonders whether Kihyun truly is as scary as the rumours have it. Right now, the idea seems rather preposterous.

Fanned out on the polished wood of the desk between them is a handful of leaflets, the rather plain script embossed on pale cream, expensive-looking paper. Kihyun pushes them towards Minhyuk, the warm smile still lingering somewhere around the edges of his business-like manner.

‘Let’s get down to basics then. The rules are pretty simple. This is a club like any other – with a couple of things offered on the side.’

Gingerly, Minhyuk takes one leaflet and scans its content.

‘These are the prices that don’t feature on any of our wine lists,’ Kihyun gives a slightly sarcastic wink. ‘I suggest you memorise them. From a legal standpoint, this aspect of our business is a little grey, so we try to keep the paper trail minimal - but I’m sure you are aware of that.’

Minhyuk glances at the price list and nods.

‘If you want to order blood, you do it by glass. We don’t do bottles. Of course,’ there is a hint of conspiracy in Kihyun’s smile now, ‘I’m sure you know there is another way to feed here, for free – and that is finding a willing volunteer.’

Minhyuk nods again. He has a feeling he will be nodding a lot in the next twenty minutes or so and he already hates Jinwoo for that.

‘There is a designated area where you can enjoy a feeding session in relative comfort, should you wish to do so. I will show you around later.’

Kihyun stretches comfortably in his seat, the smile still lingering on his delicate features, although only just. Its place is taken by something more polished and cold – a hint of steel under the softness of velvet.

‘Couple of rules regarding feeding. No full nudity and no penetrative sex - if you wish to engage in such activities, please take your business to one of our private rooms. They can be rented for up to two hours, including all snacks and non-alcoholic drinks.’

‘Snacks and drinks?’

Kihyun arches his eyebrows and Minhyuk feels dumb for some reason, as if he was missing something.

‘Of course - for your feeder. After a session, we recommend to make sure they have a snack, something to drink and a little rest. We don’t need fainting customers here; this place is busy enough.’

A wave of heat crawls over Minhyuk’s body; he is glad that, as a vampire, he can’t blush. A single memory from a year ago - Dongmin, barely conscious in his shaking arms – tightens his chest with guilt.

As if sensing Minhyuk’s discomfort, Kihyun gets up. ‘Let’s go downstairs, it’s time to give you a quick tour.’

Minhyuk is glad for the interruption, glad that they are going to be moving; no good comes from an idle mind, from dwelling on certain memories for too long. Jinwoo says that and Jinwoo with four hundred years under his belt should know.

They take the back staircase. The corridor is painted a dark shade of maroon – what a cliché, thinks Minhyuk – and faint thumping of music can be heard even here, where deep, soft carpets and rich swaths of velvet curtains muffle the sounds of their footsteps and almost make Minhyuk want to whisper.

Once down in a small lobby, they make their way through the crowd, towards a inconspicuous side door which opens into a small, rather plain looking, office-like room. The contrast is almost overwhelming. The colour scheme might be dark but there is hardly any furniture here, apart from a row of what resembled cash machines alongside the walls

‘This is our transaction room. You can convert your funds into tokens here. The club is a strict ‘no cash, no card’ business.’

Minhyuk furrows his brows a little. ‘Why? Isn’t that somewhat old-fashioned?’

Kihyun shrugs. ‘Fair point. But no cash is simply a security precaution – it’s easier to point a gun or a knife at a bartender than trying to break into a bunch of high-tech cash machines. And ‘no cards’ is to protect the identities of some people who wish to remain anonymous. Besides, the machines offer not only tokens; guests can pay for the rooms and get their keys here.’

He pulls a silver plastic card out of his wallet. It has the word Mephisto embossed in black, swirling script and Kihyun points to one of the slots on the nearest machine.

‘In order to be issued a room key, all parties who will be present need to enter their membership cards here,’ he points to one of the slots. ‘One member needs to pay. There are CCTVs in all corridors – so, if needed, we will know who entered the room and whether it matches the record we have of the booking. So I wouldn’t recommend trying to smuggle someone in.’

Minhyuk feels slightly creeped out. ‘It’s like Big Brother watching.’

‘I see you have good taste in books. 1984 – I like that,’ Kihyun smirks. ‘I do realise this seems a bit too much but I’m afraid it’s to protect the volunteers. Before you leave the club, you have to return the room key to me or one of our bartenders. If you are in a hurry, even the house feeders might do – but chances are they will be busy.’

‘House feeders?’

‘Yes, we have two. But more on that later. Back to the room key - if you could make sure all parties involved are present when you are returning the key. Again – a basic precaution. I don’t want to discover accidentally drained bodies in one of the rooms at dawn.’

‘How would you know how many people were in the room when I’m returning the key?’

There is a fleeting expression on Kihyun’s face, something akin to respect, but he recovers well.

‘I like your attention to detail, Mr Park. To answer your question, upon receiving the key, I enter it into one of the readers we have on the premises. It will supply me with the information about all people who have booked the room, their names, photographs and so on.’

Almost against his will, Minhyuk is impressed. ‘This is all rather thought through.’

Kihyun seems pleased. ‘I’m glad you appreciate it. The system is indeed quite good – even if I am the first one to admit that we do have the odd glitch here and there. If you were interested, perhaps you could be persuaded to help us out in the future. I know you are in IT – and rather good at it.’

‘Maybe,’ Minhyuk shrugs noncommittally. The fact that Kihyun knows things about him that no human has ever known in his whole life – the whole two hundred years of his immortal life – that fact sits very uneasily with him right now.

Sod Jinwoo and his interfering nature. Or Myungjun and his idiotic ideas. Minhyuk can bet everything that is dear to him – which, at present, is not a lot – that it was his brother Myungjun, his maker’s lover, that gave Jinwoo the idea of having Minhyuk applying to join an exclusive, members-only nightclub in order to get him ‘out of the house’ more.

‘Shall we have a look around, Mr Park?’

Minhyuk merely nods and follows Kihyun who briskly crosses the lobby aiming for a big double door, now wide open, revealing a vast room, dimply lit by a reddish glow.

Although Minhyuk’s eyes don’t need to adjust to the sudden lack of light – the perks of being a vampire - the assault on all of his sharpened senses is overwhelming.

The dance floor is packed. The bar on the other end of the room is equally busy, teaming with people, their scents merging into a melting pot of aromas – fresh and youthful, musky, strong and heady, all of it thrown together – and Minhyuk pauses for a moment, his breath hitching.

‘All at your disposal, Mr Park.’

He tries very hard to appear composed in front of this tiny stranger who seems like nothing can faze him, and does his best to keep his fangs in check. He will not look like an idiot who can't control himself.

‘I like what you’ve done to the place, Mr Yoo.’

Eyes sweeping over the exposed brick walls and simple wooden tables along the walls, Kihyun laughs, a surprisingly youthful sound, not quite matching his stern persona. ‘Thank you. You find it’s the excellent company that is the main pull here.’

He motions toward a large dance floor in the centre of the room, packed with bodies. ‘This is it – feel free to join in or if you don’t feel like dancing,’ he jerks his head to the side, ‘there is always the bar.’

Minhyuk looks around. People are dancing, humans with humans, humans with vampires; he has even spotted some vampire couples, limbs intertwined, swaying together. In the darkness, it’s difficult to see straightaway who is who but if he focuses hard enough, his nose never fails him.

There is no one, however, who is feeding; people are dancing, chatting, making out – but there is not a single drop of blood in sight.

‘What about if I find someone and want to feed?’

‘Of course,’ Kihyun smiles almost apologetically and points to the left. ‘You can't see it from here but there is an area around the corner – we call it the den - with lots of comfortable seating; I recommend to retire there for feeding.’

‘Thank you,’ Minhyuk nods his head curtly, suddenly itching to go, to explore on his own, without Kihyun’s watchful look.

As if on cue, his host bows a little. ‘I’ll leave you to it now, Mr Park; I took up enough of your time and you should go and enjoy yourself.’

The prospect of losing himself in the crowd, away from Kihyun’s sharp gaze, and finally being on his own makes Minhyuk’s chest feel lighter, freer.

‘I’ll go then,’ he smiles eagerly. ‘Thank you.’

‘One more thing.’

The way Kihyun’s fingers touch his sleeve, Minhyuk knows the parting shot will be something important.

‘Yes?’

‘I nearly forgot,’ Kihyun smiles, seemingly contrite. Or maybe it’s just a game to give his last remark the required gravitas. Minhyuk wouldn’t put it past him.

‘As I have said you’re free to meet the guests and so on – but the waiting staff are out of bounds. They are here to wait on you, not to be propositioned in any way.’

The subtle threat is almost imperceptible, hidden in the smoothness of Kihyun’s words – but it’s there.

‘I understand.’

‘And as for the two house feeders I have mentioned earlier. Their names are Wonho and Minhyuk – like you,’ Kihyun gives a little smile. ‘You will meet them very soon, I'm sure. They are not to be propositioned either. They are the ones to do the choosing. Feel free to chat to them, to buy them a drink - they are great company – just no suggestions of how you would like to sink your fangs into their flesh. In the best case scenario, you will be escorted out of the premises, in the worst one you lose the membership – irrevocably.’

‘I promise I won’t do that,’ Minhyuk shakes his head earnestly.

Kihyun’s expression softens. ‘If they like you enough, they will approach you themselves. Should that be the case, you will pay for their time beforehand and if you want to move to one of the private rooms, same rules apply as for any other humans accompanying you there.’

Minhyuk thinks of the prices he has seen earlier on the inconspicuous leaflet in the office and wonders exactly how much money changes hands here every night.

‘You have everything covered, right? Everything has a price.’

‘I appreciate we are not the cheapest establishment,’ Kihyun smiles again, his face pretty but fox-like at the same time, ‘but we offer certain guarantees. A sense of security for all parties involved.’

‘A sense of security doesn’t always mean the thing in question is really safe.’

‘I’m starting to like you more and more, Mr Park.’ Kihyun’s eyes are shrewd, appraising, and Minhyuk squirms inwardly, aware of the subtle scrutiny that’s going on.

The rumours about Kihyun being as sharp as a sword blade and equally ruthless suddenly seem much less absurd.

There is a lull in the conversation and after a short deliberation Minhyuk decides that he’s had enough.

‘Well, thank you for your time, Mr Yoo,’ he sticks out his hand and does his best to smile in a confident manner. ‘I think you are right. It’s time for me to go and have fun.’

‘Enjoy your stay here, Mr Park.’

Impatient to go, Minhyuk swivels on his heel, not even waiting for Kihyun to leave.

With his back to him, Minhyuk can finally breathe - and that’s what he does.

Inhaling, taking in lungful of air, tasting the delicious scents that are here – all for him to explore.

Right now, the idea of being here – utterly ridiculous a mere hour ago – looks like the best stroke of inspiration his meddlesome brother has ever had.

Almost without hesitation, he slides amongst the bodies on the dance floor. He might feel a little unsure about how to socialise with complete strangers - but if there is one thing he is not nervous about, it’s his ability to dance.

True, he hasn’t yet had the opportunity to impress anybody with his dancing skills but Minhyuk reckons tonight is as good as any. He has watched many dance videos at home, practised for endless hours in front of a massive mirror in the old ballroom and he knows his body possesses grace and fluidity when moving.

The exhilaration of letting the rhythm lead him amongst a mass of other bodies hits him almost immediately.

This is different, he thinks, head dizzy.

This is exciting.

For a moment, the main purpose of the night is forgotten. Feeding, meeting other people – it all seems rather unimportant compared to the feeling of being weightless, the sense of riding the wave of music that carries him into the unknown.

The scents around him blur, the faces fading into the background – who cares if he doesn’t meet anyone nice tonight, tomorrow is also a day.

He just wants to dance.

It’s then when the trace of scent hits him.

It is faint, almost not there – just a hint, really – but Minhyuk recognises it instantly.

After a year, it still holds the same magic.

Dongmin.

He whips around, tearing away from the dance floor, scenting like a hound. Heading around the corner into the feeding den, where lights are dimmed even more, shapes and sounds muffled by swaths of fabrics draping the walls, cushions scattered on the floor, and deep, comfortable sofas dotted around the place.

He grinds to a halt.

The cacophony of smells here is almost overwhelming, the human blood in all its intense beauty making him feel faint.

This is not a place to run around like a maniac, he realises belatedly, and calms down his frantic movements, aware how out of place he looks amongst the figures draped languidly over soft seats and comfortably looking beanbags.

Any other time he would probably he overwhelmed by the sight of bodies everywhere, half-hidden in the soft darkness - only a glimpse of a bared throat here, a soft glow of a pale, naked arm there, couples sunk in the plush velvet of massive armchairs or soft folds of massive cushions on the floor, engrossed in each other.

Tonight, Minhyuk is not swayed.

Right now, the exotic sight of dozen or so feasting fellow vampires and their willing counterparts doesn’t elicit any excitement at all.

The only thing that matters is that somewhere here, amongst the faintly-lit pliant curves, the hushed words and soft moans, amidst all the delicious scents, there is the one and only fragrance which has been haunting him for a year.

He stumbles blindly across the room, trying not to get his foot caught in dresses pooling softly on the thick carpet or to trip and land in somebody’s lap.

‘Hey, Hyukkie.’

A familiar voice almost makes him jump in fright and he swivels around a little clumsily.

‘Over here.’

He can’t manage a single word, simply stares.

In front of him, Myungjun is sprawled on a nest of cushions, head pillowed on the shoulder of a man whom Minhyuk has never seen before. His brother, however, looks completely at ease, seemingly enjoying the way the stranger’s right arm sneaks tightly around his waist.

The man lying next to Myungjun is smartly dressed, in black trousers and a pristine white shirt, although the immaculate first impression is somewhat ruined by the fact that his shirt is unbuttoned almost down to the waist. His torso is pure muscle but what fascinates Minhyuk more are several bite marks he can see, little crescents peeking from underneath the white fabric.

With his left arm, the hunk is cradling Jinwoo. His maker is not greeting Minhyuk with a smile the way Myungjun has done because he is busy kissing the muscly stranger, not taking in his surroundings at all.

Myungjun laughs at Minhyuk’s stricken expression.

‘Hey, baby brother. I see your interview is over.’

Minhyuk doesn’t react to the hated moniker – a true testimony to how shocked he is.

‘Hyukkie, this is Wonho.’

Hearing his name mentioned, the stranger untangles himself from Jinwoo’s embrace and looks up.

Minhyuk can’t help but stare some more.

Expecting a face that would match the bulk of his body, he is completely thrown by the boy’s soft features, by his somehow elfin face with surprisingly full lips – the one feature that is definitely less elf and more Apollo – and endearingly sweet, slightly big ears.

The first thought that crosses Minhyuk’s mind is how he wants to touch those ears but he jerks with surprise as the boy smiles and addresses him in a pleasant voice, breaking him out of his reverie.

‘Welcome to Mephisto. You must be Minhyuk. I’ve heard a lot about you from Jinjin and Myungjun.’

Coming from a complete stranger, Jinwoo’s nickname shocks Minhyuk to the core. Nobody but Myungjun calls him that – not even he, Minhyuk, his beloved child.

The boy – or young man, depending on whether one looks at his biceps or his face – offers Minhyuk another soft smile.

‘We were about to head for the back. Would you like to join us? I know we don’t really know each other but if you’re Jinjin’s child you must be really nice. Your whole family is.’

It takes Minhyuk a moment to process the words and when he does, he splutters, nearly incoherent with embarrassment. ‘No, I’m… Thank you but… That’s ok.’

He stops before he makes an utter fool of himself in front of this rather gorgeous specimen of the human race and watches mutely as Myungjun, the silver room key in his hand – a detail that has escaped him up to this point – stands up and waits for Wonho and Jinwoo to untangle their limbs and get up too.

‘You both go ahead,’ Jinwoo looks a little flustered as he turns to Myungjun and Wonho and motions towards the back of the room.

Wonho hesitates for a moment, smiling eyes with soft, expectant expression trained on Minhyuk, but when no response is forthcoming, the boy wraps his arm around Myungjun’s shoulders and they both leave without further ado.

Once they’re alone, Minhyuk cocks his head, suddenly realising the hilarity of the moment. ‘So… Jinwoo, tell me. Does this come under your ‘charm, rather than kill’ feeding strategy?’

Jinwoo’s eyes shift a little. ‘No. This is… Wonho.’

‘So I’ve heard.’

Minhyuk is rather enjoying the way Jinwoo squirms, clearly uncomfortable.

‘We met him when we started coming here, maybe nine months ago. He is great. We got chatting one night and…’

‘Yeah, yeah, I know; I was told the rules,’ Minhyuk interrupts him impatiently. ‘So he liked you and chose you. But… I mean how does it work with Myungjun? Do you share?’

He grins in his maker’s face.

‘Well…’ Jinwoo looks sweetly embarrassed. ‘We sort of do. You see…’

‘Oh god,’ Minhyuk groans. ‘You know what? I’ve changed my mind; I don’t want to know anything, alright? Absolutely nothing! Oh my god, I didn’t think you would actually tell me! It’s like that one time when I overheard my parents having sex –happened two hundred years ago but it still weirds me out – eurgh! So please, stop talking now, I was just trying to wind you up, ok?’

‘Ok, ok,’ Jinwoo lifts up his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. ‘I won’t tell you anything, promise. None of your business and all that. But if you decide to join us – just ask. Wonho is really, really nice and…’

‘Aaargh,’ Minhyuk quickly cover his ears. ‘I mean it! I don’t want to know, I don’t want to know!’

He shoos Jinwoo away. ‘Go, go, they are waiting for you. Go! Have fun!’

Jinwoo hesitates but Minhyuk shoots him his best blinding smile. ‘Go! I want to have a look around; I don’t need you watching me flirt awkwardly with random strangers – I would rather die than you seeing that. Go!’

‘Are you going to be ok? Has Kihyun explained everything? I'm sure he did; he is very… thorough. This is your first night here; are you sure you don’t want to come with us?’

‘No, I’m gonna be fine, I swear. I will probably go dancing. Just go!’

Jinwoo seems relieved and and after a short hesitation he leaves quickly, the spring in his step noticeable as he nears the back of the room.

Minhyuk watches until he disappears behind the heavy curtain that separates the den from a staircase that leads to the private rooms upstairs.

Once on his own again, he inhales sharply and feels a surge of excitement when the scent is still there.

Now he can finally find Dongmin.


	2. Chapter 2

Alone again, Minhyuk breathes in Dongmin’s scent, only the faintest whisper of it lingering in the air now.

The excitement is clouding his reason; if he had a beating heart it would be thumping so hard he wouldn’t be able to hear the music.

A girl leaving the dance floor presses a little against his side.

‘Hey, stranger.’

His fangs react almost on autopilot. Shocked, he covers his mouth and, mumbling a quick apology, he turns away.

He delves deeper into the dance floor, half-closing his eyes, swaying with the rest of bodies for a while, the onslaught of human scent overwhelming him again as he tries to detect the subtle fragrance of Dongmin’s blood.

Inside him, the hunger is waking up, fuelled by the warmth of too many people around him. His head is starting to spin but he follows the trial doggedly until it gets stronger, so strong Minhyuk knows he can open his eyes again and look.

The sight stabs him, like a big, sharp splinter, like thousands of thorns hooked under one’s skin.

Because, yes, he did dream of seeing Dongmin again - many times, in fact – over the last twelve months; he would admit that without any hesitation. It’s not a confession under torture; he is past that point now. He didn’t actively look for him – well, because Minhyuk has his pride, hasn’t he – but dreaming he did.

Nevertheless, he didn’t picture their encounter like this.

Dongmin is right in front him. His beautiful Dongmin – no, not his, never his, it’s wishful thinking, it’s all it has ever been – in arms of a stranger.

The vampire holding him is much older than Dongmin, with black hair lightly peppered with grey and a little goatee. Elaborate tattoos snake up his bare arms in swirling patterns. His skin, although pallid, still seems somehow tanned, its olive undertone contrasting sharply with Dongmin’s paleness.

Dongmin is so drunk he can barely move, temples shiny with sweat and damp strands of hair plastered to his forehead. Minhyuk knows he must have come straight from work. He knows Dongmin’s schedule by heart – a shameful legacy from a year ago when he would follow him like a shadow for weeks, memorising Dongmin’s routes to lectures during the day, to his local gym on Thursdays, to a small little law practice downtown where Dongmin works part-time every Monday and Friday.

The crisp white shirt that Minhyuk knows – another secret, the way he knows all Dongmin’s clothes by now, how he recognises their smell, the way a nice, heavy herringbone weave of Dongmin’s office shirt smells different from any of his hoodies or a denim fabric of his jeans – is tied around Dongmin’s waist, crinkled and looking a little sad. A blue tie – Dongmin’s favourite, Minhyuk knows that too – is still dangling loosely from his neck, over a thin white t-shirt, now damp with sweat.

Minhyuk wants to cry.

He wants to run over to them and tear Dongmin away from the stranger with fiery eyes and bulging muscles covered in tattoos.

He hates seeing the man’s hands sliding up and down Dongmin’s back like they’re meant to be there.

When the vampire starts nosing at Dongmin’s neck, Minhyuk nearly blacks out. He wants to shout out a warning, to scream at him to run and save himself.

To his horror, Dongmin merely tips his head back, giving the other full access, and closes his eyes. His throat bared, he wraps his arms around the vampire’s waist, bringing their hips together.

Staggering a little, Minhyuk feels bile rising up his throat, even if logically he knows he can't feel sick, even if there is nothing for him to throw up.

‘Hi.’

A hand grabs his arm, not forceful but firm. ‘Are you ok?’

Minhyuk swallows hard, forcing himself to refocus.

A tall young man, human, a little older than Minhyuk – should he go by mortal years – is looking at him, eyes concerned. Sharp cheekbones, a delicate nose, he is an epitome of beautiful – but Minhyuk’s head is not in the right place to appreciate human beauty.

‘Is he… He doesn’t look ok. Is he alright?’ Even to himself, he sounds like a moron – but he can't help it. The angst is overruling everything else, any sense of shame he has ever had.

‘Who?’ The young man looks confused.

‘Over there.’ He points towards Dongmin and his companion follows his gaze.

‘Ah, I see. Why shouldn’t he be?’

‘I don’t know… he is drunk. So drunk he has no idea what he is doing!’

Despite knowing this is a stupid move, Minhyuk tears away, intent on going and rescuing Dongmin from the greedy claws of some unknown bloodsucker.

‘Don’t.’ The young man’s fingers tighten on his sleeve with a surprising force and stop him in his tracks.

‘But…’ he struggles to think, struggles to form a coherent thought.

‘Don’t. He knows exactly what he is doing. That’s Dongmin. We know him. He’s been coming for almost a year. Turns up maybe once a month, always on a Friday, gets smashed so badly he can barely walk and picks up a vampire at random. Doesn’t have a type, just goes for anyone who is near. That’s it, like clockwork. He’ll be fine.’

‘But… How do you know? Who are you?’

‘I’m Minhyuk, one of the house feeders.’

‘Oh. Hi. I’m Minhyuk too.’

Mind reeling, he skips over the piece of information, mind still on Dongmin, finger still pointed at him. ‘But…But that’s not safe!’

The tiny smirk on the feeder’s face is not patronising – merely mildly amused. ‘Are you new here by any chance?’

Minhyuk blinks in confusion. ‘Yeah, it’s my first night here. Why?’

‘I would have thought, as a vampire, you wouldn’t be so concerned with the safety of humans here. That should be our job.’

For the first time, it dawns on him that he might be giving himself away.

‘I know, I’m sorry. But…’ he whispers lamely, ‘it doesn’t seem fair. He is drunk, how can he know what is he doing? What if he gets hurt? This is supposed to be a safe place.’

His companion’s smile look turns form politely interested to slightly exasperated.

‘Ok, you overprotective mother hen,’ he rolls his eyes a little. ‘I’m going to ask him if he’s ok. Happy?’

Minhyuk sags with relief. ‘Thank you.’

Who cares if he is embarrassing himself. Later, there will be plenty of time to squirm with mortification about his behaviour tonight, but not now.

He watches Minhyuk put on an easy, well-practised smile as he winds his way through the dance floor, offering greetings and little jokes along the way, and approaches the couple.

Surprised, Dongmin lifts his head, eyelids heavy. He shakes his head at something Minhyuk tells him and laughs a little.

The sight hurts. Dongmin might be drunk but he seems content, happy where he is, in the arms of someone who could be his father but looks at him with a gaze that is anything but fatherly.

The vampire seems more annoyed at Minhyuk’s interference. He nods curtly and, draping his arm around Dongmin’s waist, he pulls him away from the dance floor, towards the feeding den. As if his hunger was fuelled by the interruption, he doesn’t bother to walk too far. Seeing an empty beanbag he lowers himself on it, pulling Dongmin with him.

Still watching, Minhyuk feels like he is invading someone’s private space. Like standing, invisible, in someone’s bedroom.

‘He told me, in his own words, that he was ok. Satisfied?’

The feeder materialises next to him, almost as speedily as a vampire would and Minhyuk jumps up with fright.

He swallows uneasily. ‘Sorry. I guess I’m not used to this all. It seems so… risky. He looks like he would say yes to anything right now.’

‘Not sure why you’re so invested in that particular boy but he will be fine. He never allows anyone to touch him.’

‘He doesn’t seem to be that bothered by that guy touching him,’ Minhyuk’s eyes are boring holes into the muscly tanned arm winding around Dongmin’s waist.

The olive skin against Dongmin’s whiteness. He swallows and has to look away for a moment.

‘Oh, I mean the other kind.’

Minhyuk gasps as a slim hand points towards his crotch. ‘That kind of touch.’

‘Hands away!’ he swats at his companion but the other only laughs, his handsome features relaxed.

‘Sorry, that was unprofessional. Forgive me; I hope you don’t think I'm a complete idiot - which would be a shame because I kind of like you. Would you be interested in a short nibbling session?’

‘Uh,’ Minhyuk feels silly for finding himself completely flabbergasted. ‘I mean, I’m really honoured, thank you, I… I’m just gonna look around for now if that’s ok. I’m sorry.’

The feeder’s beautiful face doesn’t cloud and he pats his arm reassuringly. ‘Don’t apologise, my friend. Here, you can always say no.’

Indeed, Minhyuk doesn’t worry. He barely pays attention to his companion’s words, his eyes drawn back to the darkness of the den.

In front of him, Dongmin tilts his head and the vampire rolls over onto his stomach to get closer, half-trapping him under his bulky frame. He sinks his fangs into the crook of Dongmin’s neck, the movements fast and hungry, even by vampire standards.

Minhyuk feels the nails digging into the flesh of his palms. The memory is one year old but it feels like right now. It feels like it’s him biting down. Dongmin crying out sharply.

Today’s Dongmin barely makes a sound; as if the pain was something he is used to by now. He merely sighs and closes his eyes, the small hitch between his brows still the same Minhyuk remembers from a year ago.

‘God, he must taste really good.’

Next to him, a short stocky stranger has wormed his way between him and Minhyuk, staring transfixed at the way Dongmin’s body is arching in pleasure. His fangs run out.

‘I could smell him from across the whole room.’

Minhyuk bristles. ‘Shut up!’

‘Hey, what’s your problem, man?’

Like a top politician, the feeder sneaks upon them from behind, wrapping his arms around both of their shoulders.

‘If I may,’ he turns his face to the short vampire, sporting a smile so wide, he could rival the midday sun in July. ‘I think my namesake here merely wanted you to be quiet so he could enjoy the delightful sounds our beautiful friend over there is making right now.’

In front of them, Dongmin groans softly. With a shaky hand – his right arm still trapped under the bulky vampire - he unbuckles his jeans and starts stroking himself.

Minhyuk wants to punch someone in the face. ‘So he just comes here and lets himself be fucked by anyone?’

‘Oh no,’ the feeder shakes his head. ‘I mean, not Dongmin. Never been upstairs, not once. Just comes here, gets bitten, and the moment he gets off, he walks away.’

‘Oh god.’

‘You can say that. He doesn’t really talk, doesn’t smile; sometimes he is downright rude. But his blood is like the most potent drug, apparently. That’s why everyone tolerates whatever he does. And many people – vampires – come only for him. Hoping he would choose them. Even I wouldn’t mind a snog,’ he snickers. ‘He is gorgeous. But no such luck. Nobody scored with him – not even a kiss.’

The man is holding Dongmin by his waist, face buried in the crook of his neck. The long fingers of his hand digging into Dongmin’s side.

‘Is… Is he safe?’

His companion seems to have resigned himself to the rookie’s questions and doesn’t even roll his eyes this time. He merely nods to the side where a tall, well-built man is standing quietly, eyes on Dongmin and the dark vampire, watching their every move.

‘That’s Hyunwoo. Our head of security.’

Dongmin doesn’t pay the audience any attention. Doesn’t pay attention to anybody, it seems, chasing after his own pleasure. That’s why he doesn’t notice how the vampire’s hand suddenly slides into his pants and grabs his crotch.

Horrified, Minhyuk leaps forward but Dongmin is quicker. With astonishing speed, he snatches the man’s hand out of his pants and yanks his head off his neck.

‘See? He can take care of himself.’ His companion smiles and pats Minhyuk’s shoulder.

Shaking with supressed rage, Minhyuk watches Dongmin shooting the vampire a murderous glare and rolling over onto his stomach, away from him.

The older man doesn’t seem too angry about the rough handling. He leans over Dongmin and starts whispering into the boy’s ear, his dark, handsome face contrite.

The smooth expression on his face makes Minhyuk sick. So this is how charming works, he thinks helplessly, watching Dongmin’s face gradually soften - smile even - at something the vampire has said.

Out of the corner of his eye, Minhyuk senses rather than sees the bulky bodyguard relax.

‘Is every volunteer this heavily guarded?’ he raises his eyebrows.

Next to him, Minhyuk chuckles. ‘No, not really. I mean, there are bodyguards here all the time, keeping an eye on things, but Dongmin is sort of high profile right now. People have started coming because of him and not just vampires. There are plenty of girls who think he must have been through some rough break-up and they will be the ones who’ll help him heal. We get people like that once in a while. Just coming and dazzling everyone - but in a year’s time, the novelty would have worn off and there will be someone else.’

They both watch as Dongmin’s body slackens, allowing the other to take off his t-shirt, to press him face-down into the cushions. They exchange a couple of words, the vampire making Dongmin chuckle sleepily. As he starts pressing slow kisses onto Dongmin’s shoulder blades, the whole scene looks almost serene.

The bodyguard, however, moves a little closer, his stance suddenly alert, tense.

‘For now, Hyunwoo has kind of adopted him. Says the boy needs watching because he doesn’t give a shit about anything. Almost as if he wanted to get hurt. But that’s Hyunwoo; he is like a dad to all of us who work the floor. Great guy.’

Minhyuk barely pays attention to his guide’s words and stares ahead.

The vampire is trailing his lips down Dongmin’s spine, fangs against the warm human skin, and Minhyuk almost feels them sinking into his own flesh.

‘But enough about Dongmin. Are you having a good time tonight?’

Minhyuk ignores the question; doesn’t have the willpower to answer.

In front of him, head buried in the crook of his arm, Dongmin is now trapped under the vampire’s weight. Minhyuk wants to scream and run over to them and pull Dongmin from underneath the bulky stranger whose fangs are already out, ready to bite down.

But he knows he mustn’t; he can see Dongmin grabbing the vampire’s hand and interlacing their fingers together, his knuckles going white. He can see him looking over his shoulders and smile, languid and breathless at the same time.

The vampire smiles back, fangs gleaming and sharp, and bites down.

Dongmin cries out this time, burying his face in the cushion, his body contracting under the vampire’s bulk.

It hurts Minhyuk to hear pleasure as well as pain in Dongmin’s cry, to smell the sharp scent of his come – but it also makes him feel hot all over.

‘I think you need a drink, my friend.’

Before Minhyuk has time to react, his self-proclaimed protector starts dragging him towards the bar. Minhyuk doesn’t protest too much. The sight of Dongmin coming underneath a stranger – even if he knows they will go no further than that – is something he can't handle right now.

One of the bartenders floats over. He looks slightly ethereal, with a wide mouth and longish hair that frames his face in soft curls. Minhyuk can see now why Kihyun saw the need to emphasise the ‘no touch’ rule regarding his staff.

‘Hey, Hyungwon. A glass of blood on the house, please. This is Minhyuk; it’s his first time here and I think it’s all getting a little too much.’

Hyungwon, to his credit, doesn’t question anything, his beautiful face a mask of apathy, and with a light nod, he crouches down, presumably to get the blood from somewhere under the counter.

‘You didn’t have to do that,’ he mumbles, feeling mortified. ‘I was fine.’

‘You didn’t look exactly fine to me,’ Minhyuk’s raised eyebrows tell him he is not fooling anybody with his bravado. ‘Better to be safe than sorry.’

Hyungwon emerges, holding a smooth metal flask and unscrews the top with practised ease. He pours a generous measure into a wine glass and sets it in front of Minhyuk with a tiny wink. ‘Welcome to Mephisto.’

He stares at the blood, thick and dark in the glass - the smell not quite right, not as enticing as pulsing in someone’s veins, but appealing enough to make Minhyuk’s mouth water.

The smile he offers Hyungwon is small but it’s all he can manage at the moment.

‘Thank you,’ he reaches for the glass.

It’s then that they hear the scream.

It pierces through Minhyuk’s insides like a blade.

He stares at Hyungwon for a moment, frozen. ‘I… I think I have changed my mid. Thank you for the drink.’

Despite Minhyuk’s protests, he tears through the room, terror tightening his chest, not caring if he tramples someone to death. Desperate to get back to Dongmin.

With as much force as he can muster, he shoves the last couple of people aside, the ones that separate him from the place where Dongmin’s scream has come – until he gets a clear view of the scene.

The sight stops him dead.

A blond guard, one Minhyuk vaguely remembers seeing in the den before, is yanking the dark vampire away from Dongmin, a silver baton pressed into the man’s side, making him hiss in pain as he lifts him up by the scruff of his neck and drags him across the room towards the exit.

Hyunwoo is there too, helping Dongmin to sit up, covering his shaking frame with a blanket that he has procured seemingly out of nowhere. Dongmin’s nose is bleeding, his eyes red-rimmed, but despite everything, he somehow manages a weak smile and a thank you in Hyunwoo’s direction.

With trembling hands, Dongmin finds his t-shirt and tries to put it on but his whole body is shaking uncontrollably and soon he gives up, arms going limp. He gives Hyunwoo a helpless look. ‘I’m sorry.’

Hyunwoo doesn’t say a word but, with infinite tenderness, he tightens the blanket around Dongmin’s shoulders, swaddling him in it like a baby. ‘Let’s get you out of here, ok?’

Dongmin flinches and pulls away from Hyunwoo’s touch. ‘I’m… fine. It’s… It’s nothing.’

Dropping the blanket, the slowly gets up and turns towards the exit, the movements sluggish – as if wading through deep water. People part like Red Sea in hushed silence, nobody quite meeting his empty gaze.

Minhyuk has to swallow the bile rising in his throat as he watches the crimson droplets splatted on the floor that Dongmin is leaving in his wake.

The bite marks on his back are still seeping blood and it’s trickling down in a thin streak. With horror, Minhyuk sees a couple of bruises and a deep scratch on Dongmin’s lower back and he notices the waistband of his trousers is ripped – even the leather belt torn in half - as if some brutal force tried to shred them to pieces and rip them off Dongmin’s body.

Minhyuk makes a move to follow but a firm hand grabs his arm.

‘Your drink is waiting for you. I think it would be a shame to let it go to waste.’

The feeder’s iron grip tightens on his shoulder. Minhyuk is just about able to spot Hyunwoo’s tall frame slipping out of the room towards for the lobby - Dongmin’s shirt and blazer under his arm - before he is swivelled around and stirred back towards the bar.

‘Come and drink, my friend. You look like you need it.’

There is haze in Minhyuk’s head, like soft cotton wool balls filling up the void where his brain should be.

He grips the offered glass and gulps it down, the warm liquid soothing the throbbing in his throat. The tremor in his legs.

‘Better now?’ Over the counter, Hyungwon peers at him, the apathy suddenly gone.

‘Better. Thanks.’

His wits about him again – only just, but enough to allow some clarity of thoughts – he realises the bartender thought the sight and smell of Dongmin’s blood must have triggered some bloodthirsty frenzy in him. Not wanting to cause any more trouble, he does his best to smile.

‘The blood really helped. Thank you.’

‘Just rest here for a bit,’ Minhyuk worms his way back to them. ‘Sorry you had to see that. Things like this don’t happen very often but… Glad Jooheon was so fast. He is the best. Obviously, him being a vampire always helps.’

‘Vampire?’ Minhyuk echoes, dumbfolded. He didn’t notice the blonde guard was immortal – but then, his whole focus was on Dongmin.

‘Yes,’ Hyungwon interjects. ‘We have a couple of vampires employed as bodyguards. There is always one of them on duty. Helps with the reaction speed in times like this. Also the… balance of strength?’

Minhyuk nods weakly. ‘Yeah, I guess it helps.’

Head cleared a little, he can't stand lingering around anymore and he stands up, careful not to appear too hasty. Too eager.

‘Thank you,’ he offers a small bow. ‘I think I will head home now. This is a really nice place,’ he squeezes a tight smile, doing his best to make it look genuine, ‘despite the… you know, what happened. I’ll definitely come again.’

Next to him, Minhyuk doesn’t seem convinced. ‘Are you sure you’re ok?’

‘Yeah. Absolutely. Take care, Minhyuk. Thanks for the drink.’

The feeder’s face widens in a smile. ‘No problem. See you next time.’

………..……………..

He leaves the bar but slips back onto the dance floor, hovering near the door. He is careful to mingle with the crowd but staying close enough so he can have a clear view of the lobby. Dongmin is nowhere to be seen but after what seems like eternity, Hyunwoo emerges from a side door that Minhyuk didn’t notice before, phone pressed to his ear.

Despite his sharp hearing, Minhyuk can't quite decipher the quiet murmur and resigns himself to watching the big guy finishing the conversation, then pacing in the lobby, his shoulders tense.

The front door slides open with a quiet hiss and the blond guard storms in. His face is grim.

‘All ok?’ Hyunwoo’s words are quiet but measured. It’s a conscious effort, Minhyuk notices, to counterbalance the younger’s cloudy demeanour.

‘All taken care of. Shit, I thought I would kill him in there. Asshole. Sorry I fucked up. I'm really sorry, Hyunwoo. I should have been faster, I should have…’

‘Jooheon, shut up.’

Although reprimanding, Hyunwoo’s voice is soft. ‘It wasn’t your fault. You have reacted really fast; you did well. Now go back, Gail is manning the den on her own. I’ll get someone from outside to swap places with me and will wait with Dongmin. Kihyun is getting the car; he will drive him home.’

There is a sound of a door opening and of hushed words, and, after a moment’s hesitation, Minhyuk peers around the corner – just a peek, careful not be seen.

Hyunwoo is standing in the lobby that has been cleared off people, eyes on the glass door in front of him, talking into his phone again.

Dongmin is curled up in one of the swivelling chairs; face still deathly pale but his nosebleed seems to have stopped. He is dressed in his shirt and jacket but wearing a borrowed pair of jeans, hanging too loosely on his frame. With a painful pang, Minhyuk realises that the jeans would have been a perfect fit a year ago – but today they look ridiculously large on Dongmin’s way too thin body.

After a quick exchange on the phone, Hyunwoo turns to Dongmin. ‘The car is here.’

The sliding door opens soundlessly and Kihyun appears. His pinched face belies the composed manner in which he moves but after seeing Dongmin, his expression softens. He crosses the lobby and crouches down in front of him.

‘I’m so sorry, Dongmin, for what happened.’

‘It’s ok,’ Dongmin shrugs, eyes not meeting Kihyun’s. ‘No harm done.’

‘No,’ Kihyun shakes his head slowly. ‘It’s my fault, I should have…’

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Dongmin interrupts him and turns away.

Kihyun sighs, hand hovering above Dongmin’s arm, ready to comfort – but he thinks better of it as Dongmin shies away from the touch. ‘I’ve got a car waiting outside; I’ll drive you home, ok?’

‘No,’ Dongmin body tenses. ‘I don’t want to; I’m not a damsel in distress, this is stupid and unnecessary…’

‘Hey,’ despite Dongmin’s protests, Kihyun’s voice remains almost a whisper as he stands up, watching Dongmin expectantly. ‘Please, come. It’s the least I can do. I really don’t want to hear on the morning news that some crazy idiot decided to follow you on your way home and finish the job.’

Dongmin visibly pales at the prospect and, after a short pause, he follows Kihyun outside. Once safely in the car, Kihyun murmurs a quick ‘give me a second’ and returns back to Hyunwoo who is watching the whole scene with a grim, set face.

‘I’m sorry, Kihyun, this shouldn’t have happened…’

‘It shouldn’t have,’ Kihyun interrupts him briskly, the clipped words making Minhyuk’s skin prickle with unease, ‘but it wasn’t your fault. You all have done everything possible to prevent any more damage. If anything, I should be blamed; I should have checked his credentials more thoroughly.’

He looks into Hyunwoo’s eyes, sharp and focused. ‘I want the asshole’s profile on my desk first thing tomorrow morning; together with the profiles of those two who have recommended him.’

Hyunwoo nods briefly. ‘Will do.’

‘And tell Jooheon I’m really grateful; that man deserves a medal.’

Hyunwoo’s face darkens. ‘He thinks he failed tonight; you know that, right? He always blames himself.’

‘I know he does - but he shouldn’t. He really has no reason to feel guilty,’ Kihyun massages the spot between his eyebrow, looking drained. ‘Do you think I should talk to him? He needs to know how much we all appreciate what he did tonight.’

‘Do you mind if… if maybe Changkyun does it? Not that I have anything against your pep talk but…‘ Hyunwoo looks a little hesitant, the words left hanging.

Kihyun laughs. ‘Just say it, my pep talks are crap. Don’t worry, I tell Changkyun to have a word with him.’

‘Sorry,’ Hyunwoo shrugs, ‘I didn’t mean it that way – it’s just… Changkyun might go and get pissed with him and they both end up crying and Changkyun will probably make him cry some more by telling him how great he is. Which is exactly what Jooheon needs right now. You would tell him the same but without the booze. You are too uptight for that.’

Minhyuk freezes at the last words. Seeing Hyunwoo – head of security or not – telling his boss he is shit at something is a sight that doesn’t happen very often in the vampire world. The hierarchy there is ancient, shaped by millennia of hiding and need for secrecy. The pecking order is rigid, the respect for elders a given.

Dainty and beautiful, Kihyun watches Hyunwoo for a moment and Minhyuk holds his breath. No matter how tiny Kihyun is, he has heard some pretty scary stories about him – even vampires know there are certain humans you don’t mess around with.

But the petit owner merely shrugs and cracks a self-deprecating smile. ‘Yeah, I’m not very good at unclenching; you as my oldest friend should know that.’

Hyunwoo guffaws and Kihyun smiles back, gives him a swift slap on the arm and runs outside, back to the car.

‘Where are you going?’

Minhyuk gasps.

As if materialising out of nowhere, Hyunwoo is right in front of him, a slightly menacing hulk piercing him with a stern stare. ‘I’ve been watching you loitering here for quite a while, eavesdropping on us.’

Minhyuk’s respect for Hyunwoo skyrockets. He had no idea the man has even noticed him.

‘I just… I would like to go home. I’ve been waiting for a bit but you seemed busy,’ he holds out his membership card, hoping that Hyunwoo will swipe it through the reader at the door and let him go.

‘Are you planning to follow him?’ Hyunwoo takes his card but doesn’t seem too eager to move out of Minhyuk’s way.

‘Whom?’

‘You know whom I’m talking about. They guy who just left. Dongmin.’

Minhyuk bristles. ‘That’s none of your business.’

‘Maybe not,’ Hyunwoo’s voice is even but makes Minhyuk shiver nevertheless. ‘Do you know him?’

‘I… I guess,’ Minhyuk find himself not quite meeting Hyunwoo’s level stare.

‘I’m not asking whether you’ve ever bitten him – or fucked him. I’m asking if you’re his friend.’

Here it is – what it all boils down to – and Minhyuk looks at the tip of his shoes, shamefaced. ‘I… I don’t know.’

‘Then leave him alone.’

‘What is it to you?’ Minhyuk is suddenly furious. ‘Why does it matter to you what happens after he leaves? Here, you let him get bitten while he is barely conscious!’

Hyunwoo cocks his head benignly, a big bear watching a mouse. ‘Calm down, my friend. Dongmin is an adult, if he is able to say he is alright, I need to accept that.’

‘Yeah, sure. And what about if he passes out, how can he agree to anything then?’

‘If someone passes out, we take them to our medical room. We don’t leave people lying around unconscious here; it wouldn’t be safe.’

Minhyuk snorts, angrily, derisively. ‘Wow, congratulations, you all are such honourable guys – and upstairs? How do you know what’s happening there?’

Hyunwoo’s face hardens somehow, even if his handsome features remain completely impassive.

‘Not that I need to tell you anything about our safety procedures – but if you looked carefully, you would notice we have a guard in the den at all times. If any of the kids who want to go to the private rooms look too intoxicated and unable to give consent, we don’t allow them upstairs. Sure, we have to return the money and listen to some colourful insults for a bit – but mostly it’s worth it.’

‘But,’ Hyunwoo leans closer and stares at Minhyuk, ‘unless something like that happens, everyone here is responsible for themselves. If I ask and Dongmin tells me he is fine, I need to accept his decision, however stupid it might seem. I don’t have the right to ban him from the club if he pays for his drinks and doesn’t cause trouble – or to tell him what to do. If anything, I’d rather he did it here, than got bitten out there somewhere, in a dark alley, where nobody can help him if things go to shit.’

There is too much caring in Hyunwoo’s words, too much investment, and Minhyuk bristles. ‘Why are you so overprotective of him? Don’t you think you’re overdoing it a little?’

For a heartbeat, Hyunwoo stays silent, his face turning pink, then merely shrugs as if deciding Minhyuk was worth an explanation.

‘My younger brother got killed two years ago,’ he says simply. ‘He got into trouble – drugs, money he owned, company he kept – and I keep wondering… That maybe… had I done more, I could have saved him. Could have kept him from getting hurt. I guess Dongmin reminds me of him. Not that he looks remotely like him. But the way he doesn’t give a shit and almost does things on purpose that are risky. As if he hated himself; as if he was punishing himself for something. Like… Like my brother towards the end. He hated what he became but wasn’t able to change – the drugs always won.’

‘I’m sorry about your brother,’ whispers Minhyuk, suddenly feeling contrite.

Hyunwoo exhales briefly, his composure back. ‘It’s ok. Just promise me you’re not going to follow the car and that you will leave him alone. He really doesn’t need to see another vampire tonight.’

‘I promise.’

And Minhyuk means it.

Hyunwoo scans his card and steps aside, letting the glass door slide open.

Finally outside, Minhyuk sinks on one of the benches nearby, feeling drained. He needs to shut his eyes, if only for a second, to muster enough energy to get home. The images of Dongmin, blood dripping from his nose, the bite marks and bruises on his body, are screaming inside his skull and he is almost scared to close his eyes for it all to become too real. Too much of it his fault.

He curls up in a ball and leans his head against the armrest. It’s uncomfortable, digging into his neck but Minhyuk can't bring himself to move a muscle. He needs this – the calm, the stillness.

Only for a tiny bit.

Five minutes.

…………..………….

‘Hey, are you ok?’

With a gasp, Minhyuk jerks awake.

Jooheon, the blond guard from earlier, is shaking his arm. The club’s sign is still on but the pounding of music has stopped and there is no crowd outside anymore.

Minhyuk blinks blearily and straightens up. His body feels like it’s been in a car crash and he rubs his neck to get rid of the stiffness.

The street is eerily quiet. The sky above is still inky but the streetlamps are off and there is the tiniest sliver of pale pink on the horizon, peeking from behind the dark skyline in the east.

‘You should go,’ the guard remarks mildly. He offers Minhyuk a small smile, the dimple in his cheek softening his fierce features. ‘It’s nearly dawn.’

The fuzz in Minhyuk brains doesn’t want to clear but eventually, he makes the connection.

‘I… I know you,’ he blurts out. ‘You got the… the vamp off Dongmin.’

The boy’s handsome face darkens. ‘Yes, that’s me. I’m Jooheon. And yes, I did.’

‘I’m Minhyuk,’ he offers hesitantly. ‘About before. What… What happened?’

Jooheon pauses. The moment drags on, seemingly forever, the guard’s face pained. Then the words begin tumbling out, hurried, gushing out of him, seeking release.

‘The fucker decided that feeding off Dongmin wasn’t enough. He thought it would be a great idea to fuck him too, right there and then. Ripped his pants and then, when Dongmin put up a fight, he tried to smash his face against the floor to shut him up. I thought I would kill him.’

Minhyuk feels like throwing up again.

‘But you got there in time, right?’

‘Yeah, I got there in time for him not to get raped. But fast enough for him not to get hurt. I failed tonight. The asshole nearly broke his nose.’

Minhyuk watches his earnest face, darkened with fury. He can't help the question slipping out.

‘Does it feel weird, you know, fighting your own kind?’

Jooheon looks at him for a moment as if he could not comprehend what Minhyuk is asking him.

‘I fight assholes. I hate them. I don’t care what kind they are.’

‘Why?’ Minhyuk has a feeling there is more to Jooheon’s hatred than a mere wish to do his job well.

Jooheon shrugs. ‘I have a girlfriend; we’ve been together for three years – she is human. We met in a place similar to this; back then she was a little bit like Dongmin – the beautiful kid, totally new to the scene – a friend brought her along; she liked it. We didn’t really know each other at first. I mean I saw her there a couple of times but she was too stunning and too popular to notice a quiet guy like me.’

He shifts a little uncomfortably. ‘One night I heard her screaming. It was one of those shady places where people went because it was trendy at the time – but the owner was a bastard; he couldn’t care less about what was going on in the dark corners. So Gail met with some idiot, let him feed – but he wasn’t happy with just that. All that bullshit, if you smell this nice, you’re practically asking for the rest as well, you know that, baby? Your fault if you came all the way here, you should know what to expect – you can imagine.’

Minhyuk can't really imagine but nods mutely, eager not to interrupt.

Jooheon rubs his face wearily. ‘Anyway, I heard her – it didn’t sound like she was enjoying herself. I followed the sound and found her with the… asshole. She was strong but, as a human, she wouldn’t have stood a chance.’

‘What happened?’

‘Nothing,’ Jooheon averts his eyes. ‘Nothing happened to her. He never bothered her again. Or anyone else.’

Minhyuk feels chilled to the core.

‘Did you… Did you kill him?’

‘No. But I left some - let’s say - permanent damage.’

‘Oh,’ the weak sound that escape Minhyuk sounds like air escaping from a punctured tyre.

Jooheon suddenly looks up and his eyes have a fire in them, the same kind Minhyuk saw when Jinwoo was talking about Chiara. ‘When I started here, I made a promise to myself that I will see Gail in every one of the people I am trying to protect. I thought how would I feel if this happened to her. And I almost failed tonight.’

‘But you didn’t,’ whispers Minhyuk. ‘You should be proud of yourself.’

‘Look at you,’ Jooheon huffs. ‘All protective. You’re sure you’re not looking for a job here as a guard?’

He gives Minhyuk a quick once-over. ‘You are small but you look wiry. And your head seems to be screwed on the right way.’

‘I… I don’t think I would be right for this,’ Minhyuk stammers. ‘My self-restraint is not that great… and I’m new to the whole club scene.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Two hundred, give or take.’

‘Ah,’ Jooheon nods slowly. ‘That’s not too bad. You are not a newborn.’

‘But until recently I was killing after every feed.’

‘Oh,’ Jooheon jerks in surprise. ‘That’s… Wow. I'm surprised Kihyun let you join then.’

Minhyuk squirms. ‘I used to kill because sometimes it takes a really long time for a person to die after draining. It’s awful to watch. So I always killed them to make it quicker for them, less painful?’

‘You didn’t need to kill them at all. What about charming, have you ever tried that?’

Minhyuk feels like he is in an interrogation chamber tied up to a chair. The worst part is, he doesn’t really like what he hears.

‘Charming – well, that would mean looking into somebody’s eyes. And talking to them. I’m rubbish at that. Even when I was human I used to be really shy. And I'm really bad at charming – I’ve tried it but…’

He trails off, painfully aware of how much of a stupid excuse it is, now that he is shrivelling under Jooheon’s direct gaze.

‘But I want to change. I liked it here tonight. It will be nice not to worry about… all that.’

Jooheon’ face softens. ‘I’m sure this will be a nice change for you – no bodies, no need to force people into anything. You will like it, I think. Despite what happened tonight. Just so you know, it doesn’t happen very often…. We don’t…’

‘I believe you,’ interrupts him Minhyuk quickly. ‘I bet you are really good at your job.’

‘Thank you,’ Jooheon’s dimple flashes again as he stands up.

‘I guess we should go,’ he points towards the sky in the east, the daybreak bleaching the pink strip of light into pale orange. ‘Don’t want to get caught here after sunrise.’

Minhyuk follows his lead and straightens his numb limbs. ‘Thank you for what you did tonight.’

The boyish smile on Jooheon’s face makes him look much younger. Like an ordinary boy who loves his girlfriend and knows nothing about bloodlust and fangs and naked fear.

‘It’s my job,’ he shrugs lightly. ‘See you around, Minhyuk.’

And then he is gone in a blurry, leaving Minhyuk in the middle of the quiet road, the grey of dawn seeping into the indigo sky above.

………………………..

He makes it home, barely in time to escape the first golden rays.

The house is quiet, his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway as he runs up the massive staircase. Jinwoo and Myungjun must be back already because he can see their shut bedroom door as he hurries past.

The covers on his bed are pristine, the way he likes it, and he curls under the heavy blankets, not bothering to undress or wash his face.

In the soft cocoon of his bed, he feels safe. He can hide under the covers and pretend everything is fine again.

Wrapped in his down duvet like a snug parcel, he can fool himself into thinking that everything can go back to how it was before he stepped through the Mephisto door last night.

He fails.

The images come back like flood breaking the riverbank – Kihyun’s sharp intelligent face, Wonho sandwiched between Jinwoo’s and Myungjun’s shoulders, Dongmin in the arms of another vampire.

Dongmin.

Dongmin with scars all over his torso. Dongmin shaking, blood dripping onto the floor. Dongmin curled in the chair in the lobby, gaze empty.

Minhyuk groans and hides his head under the pillow. He tries to tell himself that these have been Dongmin’s decisions, that he has chosen this way of life and Minhyuk has nothing to do with any of it.

He fails.

No matter how hard he tries to conjure Hyunwoo’s voice saying that all are responsible for themselves; he knows that in the dark book named ‘Ruining Lee Dongmin’ he was the first one to pick the quill and write a chapter. Minhyuk doesn’t care for morality in the literal sense – the concept is shifting, ever-changing like amoeba, in every society it means something different – but he knows that even if a year ago things were as much Dongmin’s doing as they were his, he still ruined Dongmin’s happiness; his chance of a good life with Bin.

He knows that in a parallel universe – the blessed, safe space where what-ifs and maybes still have a chance of becoming reality – in the alternate world where he listened to Jinwoo’s wise words of letting the boy be, Dongmin probably wouldn’t end up being where he did last night, shaking in the back of Kihyun’s car, heading towards an empty, nondescript apartment without a soul to welcome him; no, he would be sleeping in his and Bin’s small attic bedroom, Bin’s body keeping him warm, the old oak whispering outside their window.

Minhyuk hugs himself under the soft feathery covers and squeezes his eyes shut.

The tears come anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

‘Did you do it on purpose? Did you?’

A heavy chair barely misses Myungjun’s face and shatters against the wall.

‘Fuck, Hyuk! Are you craz-‘

Minhyuk whirls an old encyclopaedia in Myungjun’s direction and the heavy book hits him squarely in the chest. ‘Did you?’

Myungjun sinks to his knees and coughs.

‘Stop, Hyuk!’ he rasps painfully. ‘What are you talking about?’

Yanking Myungjun by his collar, Minhyuk slams him against the door. It cracks with a sickening sound, the wood splintering as Myungjun’s body almost falls through to the other side.

‘Stop bullshitting me,’ he hisses into his brother’s ear. ‘Yesterday. Did you know Dongmin would be there?’

‘Hyuk, pleas-‘

‘What’s going on?’

Minhyuk stops at the sound of Jinwoo’s booming voice and drops his hands. Myungjun falls to the floor, hands clutching his throat and wheezing.

Jinwoo is standing outside the big French door that opens into the garden. The burnt orange of the sky in the west is filtering through the trees behind him; the sun has just set.

Jinwoo’s eyes survey the damaged plaster on the far wall, the shattered chair. When he takes in the broken door to the hallway and Myungjun kneeling next to Minhyuk, his face looks like thunder. He moves inside, letting the billowy curtains fall down behind him.

‘Explain.’

Minhyuk looks stubbornly to the floor.

‘It’s nothing, Jinjin,’ Myungjun gives him a shifty look as he gets up. ‘We’ve just argued. I’m sorry about the mess. It’s nothing important.’

‘Wow,’ Jinwoo sinks into the nearest chair, crossing his legs. ‘My sons are taking me for a fool, it seems.’ He pops his knuckles, a gesture that somehow reminds Minhyuk of Kihyun, and smiles, an icy, mirthless chuckle. ‘Could you explain what was so unimportant that you had to trash the library for it, my favourite room in the whole house?’

Minhyuk pierces Jinwoo with a cold stare. ‘Oh, I can explain. Or maybe _you_ could - to me?’

Jinwoo’s eyebrows arch in a warning but Minhyuk is on a roll now; he doesn’t care about the respect for his maker.

‘Have you two planned it together? The whole Mephisto thing?’ his voice rises in agitation. ‘Have you done it on purpose so I can see Dongmin there, getting drunk and being passed on from vampire to vampire – just to show me that he wasn’t worth moping about? Or so I can get in the line and have a bite too?’

He stands in front of Jinwoo, looming above him. He needs to see his maker’s face when he answers – although he is not sure what he will do if Jinwoo says yes.

‘Have you, Jinwoo?’

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Myungjun shifting uncomfortably. There is something about him that makes Minhyuk’s skin crawl with unease.

Jinwoo notices it too.

‘Junnie? Did you know about Dongmin being a regular at Mephisto when you came to me with the idea? Because I certainly didn’t,’ he turns back to Minhyuk, face softening.

To Minhyuk astonishment, Myungjun’s face turns bright red. It’s not a face of a man with a bad conscience though – it’s the redness of anger.

‘Really, Jinjin? You didn’t know? Funny that - everyone there knows about Dongmin! Maybe if you talked to people you _would_ know things too! But no, that will never happen – and you know why? Because every time we go there, you just trail after Wonho like a lovesick puppy!’

Minhyuk’s mind reels. Despite his insides still quivering with anger, he can sense the argument shifting into dark, murky waters that have nothing to do with him.

Jinwoo takes a deep breath. It is obvious he tries really hard to stay calm; when he opens his mouth, his words are even slower than usual.

‘I can't help it if the boy likes me, Junnie.’

Myungjun looks like he’s going to spit in Jinwoo’s face. ‘Oh no, darling. That’s where you’re wrong – _you_ like him!’

Jinwoo sighs. ‘Come on, Junnie. Don’t be like that. You enjoy it as well; you like Hoseok too.’

Minhyuk’s head is starting to spin. ‘Who is Hoseok?’

For a split of a second, Jinwoo looks as if he forgot Minhyuk was in the room. ‘Hoseok is Wonho’s real name, Hyukkie. He calls himself Wonho at work, like a stage name for actors, you know…’

‘Yes, I know what a stage name means,’ Minhyuk interrupts him. His eyes narrow. ‘How come you call him by his real name?’

‘Exactly, baby,’ the falsely sweet tone of Myungjun’s voice terrifies Minhyuk for some reason. ‘How did you get upgraded from a customer to a _friend_?’

The way Myungjun emphasises the word friend makes Minhyuk shudder.

‘Junnie,’ Jinwoo gets up from the chair and crosses the room, over to where Myungjun is leaning against the wall, face darkened. He takes Myungjun’s hands.

‘Hoseok said we both could call him by his real name. He said he liked us; that we were kind. I guess, in his line of work, he gets to meet vampires that are less than nice, more often than not.’

There is softness in his voice and Myungjun crumbles a little.

‘But Hoseok told you that when I was not there,’ he whispers unhappily. ‘Remember that time when you got really hungry and I didn’t feel like going out, so you went on your own? And then you came back, all glowing and… and… just happy – and you said Wonho – Hoseok – talked to you and that he said we could always find him when we come? That he would like to make it into a regular thing? To make _us_ into a regular thing?’

‘Well, yes,’ Jinwoo is still holding Myungjun’s hand but his posture is less assured somehow, as if he was standing on thin ice now. Ice that is cracking.

‘I thought it would be a good idea, Junnie. To have somebody regular, not having to worry about charming people and leaving them half-drained in the streets – or killing them. And when he offered, it made sense to say yes. He is such a nice guy; I knew you would like the idea.’

‘But that’s it, Jinjin,’ Myungjun sniffs and wipes his eyes with his sleeve. ‘You didn’t ask me. It didn’t cross your mind to ask me if I would be happy that we suddenly have a personal feeder – because that’s what Hoseok is, isn’t he, baby, when you think about it? Not quite, I know, he picks other people as well, but when we come, he greets us like he belongs to us now.’

‘I thought it would be a good thing, Junnie. That it would make our life easier, safer.’

Jinwoo looks smaller, as if with every sentence he was shrinking, becoming less.

‘Yeah, sure,’ the sudden sarcasm in Myungjun’s voice almost makes Minhyuk jump. ‘So now I’m gonna enjoy this new, safe life and wait for the day when you come home and announce that Hoseok asked you to turn him and that you’re going to make him part of the family.’

‘Junnie, shut up!’ Jinwoo looks genuinely shocked and drops Myungjun’s hands. ‘I would never do that! I would never turn Hoseok, even if he asked me to.’

‘Why?’

‘Because this whole existence wouldn’t be right for him. He is a soft soul; it would destroy him.’

Eyes pleading, Jinwoo takes Myungjun’s hand into his again. ‘With you, I knew you could handle it. You are much stronger than you look.’

Myungjun scoffs. ‘Brilliant. So if Wonho was a bit more resilient, you would gladly welcome him to become your new child and your new lover.’

‘Junnie, please.’ Jinwoo’s voice is quiet.

‘Oh, just leave me alone,’ Myungjun yanks his hands away. ‘Or go to your precious Hoseok. Whatever.’

He leaves the room, slamming the already broken door behind him so hard it falls off its hinges.

The silence in the room without Myungjun is deafening; as if all sounds, the joyous and happy ones, left with him.

Seeing that Jinwoo is not going to break the silence, Minhyuk gently touches his shoulder. ‘I don’t understand. What’s going on between you and Wonho? Hoseok, I mean?’

Jinwoo looks as if he aged hundred years over the last five minutes. He sinks onto an old, comfortable sofa, squished between two massive, floor-to ceiling bookshelves.

‘I don’t know anymore, Hyuk,’ he buries his face in his hands. ‘I thought everything was fine. I… I mean… I really like Hoseok; he is a nice boy, funny and kind; he is beautiful – when we meet we have fun, all three of us. Or at least, that’s what I thought,’ he whispers unhappily. ‘I had no idea that Jun…’

‘He is jealous,’ Minhyuk says bluntly and sits down next to Jinwoo. ‘He is scared you are in love with him.’

‘Oh my god,’ Jinwoo groans into his hands. ‘What a stupid idea! Of course I’m not! I love Myungjun; he knows that.’

‘That’s not always the only thing that matters,’ says Minhyuk quietly. ‘Loving someone is one thing – but what if you also want somebody else?’

Minhyuk remembers Dongmin’s face again, beaming at Bin, happy, in love – but he also remembers Dongmin’s breathless, hungry look from a year ago, his hands roaming over Minhyuk’s body in the darkness of Minhyuk’s bedroom, his whisper – you are so beautiful – into Minhyuk’s ear.

He gets up from the sofa; the tiredness is seeping through his bones and he wants to disappear into his room and shut the door in the world’s face.

‘You need to talk to Jun – and to Hoseok. You all need to figure this out in a way that will make everyone happy. Don’t do what I did – or Dongmin.’

He rubs his eyes wearily. ‘I should have listened to you back then, Jinwoo; I’m sorry. You were right; I should have left Dongmin alone. Now I need to figure out what to do, same as you.’

Jinwoo nods mutely, offering a wobbly smile, and Minhyuk leaves quietly, careful not to step onto the splinters scattered on the parquet floor.

Once behind the closed door of his bedroom, he crawls into bed and hugs himself tight.

Nothing in his world is what it seems.

…………………………..

‘One glass of blood, please.’

Hyungwon smiles at him briefly over the counter. ‘Welcome back, Minhyuk.’

He sets the glass in front of him and takes the token, movements brisk and efficient, not quite matching the pleasant, slightly vacant expression on his striking face. Myungjun wonders if Hyungwon always looks like that, like he has seen it all, like nothing can faze him.

He takes a sip; the blood has a faint fruity aftertaste and Minhyuk wonders vaguely whether the poor soul who has donated it was some kind of a health freak or whether the diet was part of the deal.

‘Hi,’ an impossibly tall, lanky boy slides onto the bar stool next to him. ‘Are you new? I haven’t seen your face around here.’

He takes a quick gulp as the fresh, youthful scent of the boy hits him full force. No need to bare his fangs at the kid from the get-go. The thick liquid sliding down his throat calms him down some.

‘Hi, I’m Minhyuk,’ he offers a small smile, ‘and yes, I’m new. This is my second night here.’

‘I’m Sanha,’ the boy grins at him and waves at Hyungwon, who comes over, a slight frown on his face.

‘Hey kiddo, how come you’re not in bed yet?’

‘Don’t be an ass, Hyungwon,’ Sanha slides a token in the bartender’s direction. ‘A bottle of soju, please.’

Hyungwon places a bottle and a shot glass in front of the boy and frowns again. ‘Does Changkyun know you’re here again?’

Sanha pours himself a shot but pauses when he hears the question. ‘Could you leave Changkyun out of this? What does he have to do with whether I’m here or not? He is not my babysitter.’

Hyungwon’s face is back to the mask of apathy again. ‘You’re right, he is not your babysitter – only your cousin. And my boss. And the co-owner of this place. Who asked me to keep an eye on you, because apparently you have been coming here too much and skipping lectures lately.’

‘Jeez,’ Sanha rolls his eyes and downs the shot. He turns his back to Hyungwon and smiles at Minhyuk who is watching the exchange with a half-smile on his face.

‘See, I thought that once I was off age, things would be different. But no, it’s the same shit all over again, just instead of my Mum fussing over me, it’s my cousin and his pocket-sized boyfriend now, who think that because they own this place they can spy on me.’

‘I would not advise to use the word pocket-sized in Kihyun’s presence,’ Hyungwon remarks dryly but Minhyuk can see his mouth twitch with a suppressed smile.

‘I won’t, don’t worry, I’m not that stupid,’ grins Sanha and leans over to Minhyuk, whispering dramatically in his ear. ‘Kihyun is tiny but he can be scary as shit. Luckily my cousin has him wrapped around his little finger – so I’m safe.’

He straightens up and waves at Hyungwon. ‘One more soju and another glass of blood for Minhyuk, please.’

Minhyuk starts protesting, panicky at the thought that this kid should be paying the vertigo-inducing price for his drink, but Sanha merely laughs – my parents are loaded, you wouldn’t believe – and continues waving at the bartender who seems to be busy at the other end.

After a moment, Hyungwon appears, an apologetic smile on his face. ‘Give me a second, guys, ok? I need to go to the back to open another batch of blood, we’ve run out.’

Hyungwon disappears and Minhyuk twirls the stem of his glass nervously. He is left with a stranger and the familiar shyness is constricting his throat. What is he supposed to talk to him about?

Mercifully, Sanha doesn’t notice anything and chats away, about school, about his Mum and his aunt, Changkyun’s mother, who, according to Sanha, are conspiring against him and trying to prevent him from having any fun whatsoever.

Hyungwon reappears after a while, carrying a familiar metal flask, in a flurry of hurried movements. ‘Sorry, it took a little longer; I had to go and serve our resident siren first.’

‘What? Don’t call him that,’ Sanha huffs and takes a swig directly from the bottle – but Minhyuk freezes.

Now that he pays more attention to his surroundings and the glass of blood in front of him is empty, not overpowering the scents around him, he can smell it.

Dongmin’s scent.

Next to him, Sanha frowns at the bartender, his youthful face suddenly dark.

‘Dongmin is not a siren. You talk about him as if he was only his scent, and nothing else.’

‘Sorry,’ Hyungwon shrugs apologetically while pouring Minhyuk a glass. ‘I know it’s not nice but it sort of slipped.’

He turns to Minhyuk, who sits rooted to the spot. Misreading his shocked expression, he hastily sets the glass in front of him. ‘I didn’t mean to offend - Sanha knows Dongmin – but here, we tend to call people like him sirens.’

‘What kind of people?’ whispers Minhyuk hoarsely and takes a sip from his glass.

‘You know - beautiful new members who get everyone a little overexcited for a while. Everyone wants to have a bite; everybody goes a bit crazy. You saw him last time,’ he adds a little uncomfortably, as if trying to skirt around the circumstances of the encounter. ‘You know what I mean.’

Minhyuk blinks and tries to compose the whirring thoughts in his head.

‘You said new? But I spoke to Minhyuk – your feeder – last time and he told me Dongmin has been coming here for a year. So he is not really the new kid anymore, is he? I thought the hype would have passed by now. So why are you calling him a siren?’

Hyungwon frowns. ‘Well, it does usually pass - the hype, I mean. Every scent gets familiar after a while. Plus no one looks that good with too many feeding scars, no matter how stunning they are. And there is always someone new on the scene after a couple of months. But somehow, Dongmin is different. Although he has been coming for a year, the craze has not passed yet. Maybe because he has never been upstairs – nobody can claim that. He hasn’t even kissed anyone yet.

‘Do you want to know something though?’ Sanha leans closer, lowering his voice into a whisper. ‘Kihyun said that the moment someone will look like they might score with him, he will offer them a room for free.’

‘Good grief, kid, what are you talking about?’ Hyungwon looks genuinely shocked.

‘I overheard him talking to Changkyun. Said he will not have half of the club salivating - well, he said something worse,’ Sanha chuckles, ‘at the sight of Dongmin snogging someone.’

Minhyuk’s head spins. He grips his drink and gets up clumsily.

‘I think… I need… I will be going now,’ he stammers, tripping over his own words. It was nice to meet you, Sanha. Thanks for the drink; next time round, it’s my turn.’

He leaves hastily, painfully aware that he must look like the rudest person on earth – he didn’t buy the kid a round, didn’t even hang around for long enough to finish the glass Sanha bought him. Right now, however, he doesn’t care about the niceties, manners – all of that can go to hell.

Right now, he has to - he needs to – head to the other end of the bar, where a tall, familiar figure sits alone, a line of empty glasses in front of him.

Palms sweaty, he slides onto the stool next to Dongmin, clutching his overpriced glass of blood.

Next to him, Dongmin waves a tired hand at Hyungwon, without even looking up.

‘The usual?’ Hyungwon’s tone is friendly but neutral, the smile warm, yet utterly professional. He casts Minhyuk a sharp look but doesn’t comment on him deserting Sanha and throwing himself at the ‘siren,’ mere seconds after he has stopped gossiping about him.

Dongmin looks up and gives a brief nod. Hyungwon turns and picks one of the whisky bottles lined up in neat rows on tightly packed shelf behind the counter.

One glass filled with amber liquid joins several other empty ones on the counter.

‘Thank you,’ mumbles Dongmin, without sparing the bartender a single glance.

‘It’s a pleasure, sir.’ Hyungwon swiftly takes away all empty glasses and the token Dongmin has given him. With a smile and a little bow, he is away in a flash, waved over by a tall girl with a straight black hair, sitting at the far end of the bar.

Dongmin knocks down the drink in one go and sets the glass carefully on the counter. He turns around on the barstool and slides down.

The moment his feet touch the ground, his legs give out.

Minhyuk shoots up.

He grabs Dongmin by the armpits and yanks him up before he could collapse on the floor.

‘Thank you, stranger.’

Dongmin is a dead weight in his arms. His back presses into Minhyuk’s chest, head leaning heavily onto Minhyuk’s shoulder.

Minhyuk tightens his grip around Dongmin’s waist and feels his fangs run out.

The smell of whisky, smoky and raw, is new – but underneath it, the old Dongmin is the same, his scent honey and musk, perfectly etched in Minhyuk’s memory.

Dongmin laughs and rubs his hair against Minhyuk’s cheek. He still doesn’t bother to turn to look into his face.

‘I like the way your body feels. So… strong.’ He is slurring the words a little, just the tiniest bit. ‘Do you want a bite?’

Minhyuk’s dick swells.

Dongmin laughs and tips his head back. ‘I take that as a yes.’

Minhyuk jerks away, mortified at the thought of how perfectly the bulge in his pants fitted between Dongmin ass cheeks and how he must have felt it.

Clumsily, Dongmin straightens, turns in his arms - and freezes.

‘Hey.’

Minhyuk finds he can’t move. He can’t think of a single word to say back, so he simply stares.

He thinks Dongmin will run but the other is simply there, rooted to the spot, swaying ever so slightly on his feet.

‘It’s you.’

‘It’s me.’

Dongmin’s eyes cloud for a moment. His eyelids flutter shut and, for a split of a second, Minhyuk fears he is going to faint.

On impulse, he stretches out his arm to steady him.

The touch jerks Dongmin awake.

‘Oh. Thanks.’ He covers Minhyuk’s hand with this. ‘My offer... still... still stands – if you want to.’

His eyes are boring into Minhyuk’s, the blunt desire in them too naked, too much to bear.

Minhyuk’s insides are on fire. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Why? You not interested?’

‘I… I don’t want you to get hurt, Min.’

‘Oh, for... fuck’s sake,’ Dongmin rolls his eyes and lets go of Minhyuk’s hand. ‘If you don’t want to... just say so. I’ll find - I’ll find someone else.’ He turns to leave.

‘Wait!’

He let himself being steered to the back, past the dance floor, Dongmin’s fingers encircling his wrist.

There are eyes following them, whispers floating in the background, but Minhyuk keeps his eyes on the floor.

Dongmin doesn’t drag him too far. They make it to the first empty beanbag and he sinks down onto the soft leather, limbs sprawled.

‘Come here.’

The whispered words are almost drowned in the hum of the place but the touch on Minhyuk’s ankle isn’t.

Dongmin is looking at him, eyes hazy and unfocused, but the words are anything but. ‘Come here.’

Later, Minhyuk couldn’t tell whether it was his mind or his legs that gave away.

He falls to his knees next to Dongmin because that is the only thing to do. To lose himself in the scent he thought would never engulf him, never fill his senses again.

He rips Dongmin’s shirt off him at a record speed.

The sight hurts.

Dongmin’s chest is covered with healing bite marks, the skin of the new ones reddened and shiny, the old ones faint white crescents, almost invisible to the naked eye.

Minhyuk aches – that painful, dull tightness in his chest where his heart would beat were he still human – as he maps the marks on Dongmin’s body and counts how many strangers lay there next to Dongmin and had a taste.

‘Hurry.’

Obediently, he sinks between Dongmin’s legs, and lowers himself carefully on top of him. Waits for a reprimand to come, for a hand to push him off and show him his place.

None comes.

He presses his face against Dongmin’s neck, hesitant, scared to be sent away. Touches the pulsing vein with his finger, almost reverently.

‘Not there.’

Dongmin’s lips are on his ear, the words breathy.

There is no need for Dongmin to explain further. Minhyuk swallows the lump in his throat and nods. Carefully, he slides off Dongmin’s body and starts pulling down his jeans.

He hears a soft gasp behind him and out of the corner of his eye he can see Hyunwoo moving soundlessly to hover closer.

Darkening, Dongmin’s eyes are following his every move.

The skin of Dongmin’s inner thigh is warm and pliant under Minhyuk’s fingers, just the way he remembers it. 

Flawless.

There are only two faint scars marring the whiteness. Minhyuk’s bite mark from a year ago.

Minhyuk gently kisses the white crescents and his grip on Dongmin’s thigh tightens. The whole experience has a strange out-of-body tinge to it. He is still waiting for Dongmin to scream and push him away or for Hyunwoo to drag him out – he doesn’t know what he is expecting, but certainly not Dongmin sitting up and sliding his fingers in Minhyuk hair, the words breathless.

‘Do it.’

He sinks his teeth in.

Clamping a hand over his mouth, Dongmin falls back into the cushions with a muffled cry.

Minhyuk swallows in frenzy, hands gripping the soft flesh, nails digging into the white skin. Nothing matters anymore. Only the taste of Dongmin in his mouth.

All noise around fade.

Just the beating pulse remains. Familiar warmth flooding his mouth. Dongmin’s essence filling his senses.

A hand grabs his, prying his fingers off Dongmin’s thigh, and he startles a little, thinking Dongmin wants him to stop. Fangs still in, he waits – shaking like a dog that expects a kick.

Dongmin’s fingers grip his hand and press it against his crotch.

The collective gasp around them is audible.

Minhyuk is glad vampires can’t faint because the dizziness is overwhelming. He gulps down a mouthful of blood and pushes his palm down.

Dongmin groans and arches into his touch. ‘More.’

We gonna get kicked out of here, he thinks hazily as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of Dongmin’s boxers and pulls down.

The velvety feel of the heated skin. The fullness.

He tugs, movements clumsy and artless, not really looking what it is doing to Dongmin as the pull of his blood is still overriding everything else.

‘Faster.’

Dongmin is close; there is an edge to his voice that shoots a hot spike through Minhyuk’s gut. He stops swallowing; lifts his head and watches the sweet crease between Dongmin’s brows, his teeth biting into the lower lip.

Feeding ceases to be important. It is the pleasure on Dongmin’s face that is pulling at his insides now, filling him up with that sweet heaviness he missed for so long.

‘Like this? Min? Min, is this good?’

He watches every flutter of Dongmin’s eyelashes, listens to every gasp, every exhale.

‘Yeah – oh – I’m…’

Dongmin’s cry as he comes is like that of a bird with broken wings.

Minhyuk sobs out and buries his face into Dongmin’s groin. Then, panicking crawls up and covers Dongmin’s nakedness with his own body. Protecting, shielding.

Dongmin’s face is wet as he pulls Minhyuk’s head close and kisses him.

‘Holy shit,’ a voice comes somewhere from above. Whispers. Rushed footsteps.

He ignores everything and hugs Dongmin close, his body still shaking.

A hand taps softly at his shoulder. ‘Up.’

Kihyun is hovering above them, a room key in his hand. ‘It’s on the house, room one. You are lucky I’m in a good mood. Go before I kick you out for indecent exposure.’

It takes Minhyuk a moment to process the information, then the embarrassment hits.

The conversation with Sanha – whoever kisses him, will get a room on the house.

Oh god.

Under him, Dongmin stirs and takes the card out of Kihyun’s hand. Wraps his arm around Minhyuk’s shuddering shoulders. 

‘Let’s… let’s go.’

………………………………..

The door barely swings shut, when Dongmin kisses him hungrily. Moans into his mouth as Minhyuk’s fangs run out and catch on Dongmin’s bottom lip.

‘God, I want you,’ he gasps into Minhyuk’s ear and presses Minhyuk’s head into the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

‘Wait,’ he pulls back, stalling. ‘I… I probably shouldn’t.’

‘Why?’ Dongmin pants. ‘You don’t want me anymore?’

‘Min,’ Minhyuk pleads. ‘I want you more than anything. But you’re hurting.’

The thirst is getting to him now, threatening to cloud his brain – but he needs to try, he needs to do it for Dongmin. He can't just take advantage of him, not like this, not when something tells him Dongmin is here to get numb, to seek oblivion.

He needs to know what Dongmin is trying so desperately to forget.

‘Min,’ he wraps his arms around him. ‘Please. Wait a second.’

Dongmin pulls back but the cynicism in his voice makes Minhyuk shudder. ‘Oh wow, you don’t want to... to fuck me, Hyukkie? Sullied goods not enticing anymore?’

‘Min, it’s not that…’

Despite being roaring drunk, Dongmin looks Minhyuk straight in the eye. ‘Come on, Hyu-, Hyuk. Don’t play hard to get. Come and fuck me because I haven’t... I haven’t had a dick in a year. Yes, you’ve heard right. I need it.’

He staggers a little, just about managing to hold onto Minhyuk’s arm. ‘You know, all of you vampires think of yourselves as the great... seducers – but it all feels the same after a while, the whole routine. All those vamps I have met – god, you are all so boring, Hyuk,’ Dongmin’s laugh sounds hollow. ‘If even talking to any of you is so... so boring, what would fucking be like – I don’t want to know. But you are different. You were the best. The best fuck I have ever, ever - ever, Hyukkie - had in my life. I want you.’

Minhyuk reels back. ‘Jeez, Min – the best fuck in your life? What about Bin?’

Dongmin laughs mirthlessly. ‘Shh... We are not talking about Binnie. Binnie doesn’t want me anymore. He left. Thinks I’m screwing around, which is technically not true but – well, we can make it true tonight, since he has already called me a slut. What do you think?’

‘Oh Christ. Min, please…’

‘Shut up, Hyukkie,’ Dongmin presses his hips into Minhyuk, hard. ‘Just listen to me. You either fuck me right now, right here – or you can go and I don’t want to ever talk to you again; ever to see you again. What is it going to be?’ 

Dongmin is licking at his neck, teeth scraping the tender skin. ‘Do you want me, Hyukkie?’ he grabs Minhyuk’s head and presses it into the crook of his neck.

The inside of Minhyuk’s brain explodes red – dark crimson, vermillion, deep ruby flames licking scorching hot at his consciousness, burning any thoughts he has ever had. Anything but Dongmin.

He bites down.

Dongmin’s cry echoes in the room but he is holding Minhyuk’s head in place; his hips stutter against Minhyuk’s thigh.

It feels surreal. The frantic speed with which Dongmin pushes him off his neck and starts attacking his clothes. The way he pulls him towards the bed and thrusts a small bottle of lube in Minhyuk’s hands. The way he allows Minhyuk’s fingers to stretch him open.

‘Fuck me. Hyuk, please. Now.’

Despite the anticipation - despite the breathless, desperate pleasure building up deep down in his belly – Minhyuk jerks at the words and tears his eyes away from Dongmin’s face.

It hurts. The look in Dongmin’s eyes – the haze filled with need but without a single shred of love.

The anger, searing and ugly, suddenly sharpens in his gut.

‘Turn around,’ the tone of his voice is curiously flat, even to him, as he pulls out his fingers. ‘On all fours.’

Dongmin’s gaze refocuses, but only a little. Clouded in confusion for a moment, he obeys without a word.

Minhyuk doesn’t want to see his emotions _not _mirrored in Dongmin’s face. The emptiness in the one and only place where he longs to see – hopes for – something more.

I don’t need to do this to myself, he thinks furiously, as he impatiently grabs Dongmin’s hips and pulls him closer.

He pauses; movement slowed down to almost nothing as he starts pushing in. No matter how big his anger, he doesn’t want to take it out on Dongmin’s body. Human form is so fragile; he saw it countless times, tested and broke its limits - the tearing of flesh, snap of a tender neck, bodies left behind, drained and pale.

The resentment is there, shaking his insides, turning his fingers into claws that grip Dongmin’s hips, bruising his skin – but it stops there; it has to stop.

Everything feels wrong and tears blur his vision as he sinks into Dongmin and stills for a moment, feeling oddly short of breath.

Dongmin buries his face into the pillow he is clutching and chokes out a sob.

Minhyuk freezes. ‘Min,’ he whispers, forcing himself to keep still. ‘Min. Am I hurting you?’ 

Dongmin’s fingers grip the sheets next to his head. ‘No.’

The silence rings loud in the room, interrupted only by the sound of their bodies slapping against each other. By Dongmin’s groans into the pillow, by Minhyuk’s panting.

Without logic, the anger is swelling in him again, its searing whiteness eradicating the redness of lust. The anger in the face of a gaping emptiness where the substance should be, the substance that gives meaning to things.

There is not much to be said.

He leans over forward and wraps one arm around Dongmin’s waist, bringing their bodies together.

With his other hand, he reaches around. He might not be able to make Dongmin _love_ him, he thinks angrily, but he can make him _come._

Dongmin gasps at the touch. ‘Bite me. Hyuk, please.’

He sinks his fangs into the tight rope of muscle running alongside Dongmin’s shoulder blade, deep and merciless, and Dongmin cries out and spills, the thick spurts staining the pristine white sheets.

With Dongmin’s warmth still clenching around him, he follows only a second later, brain emptying completely for a blissful second.

Dongmin’s legs give out and they collapse on top of each other. Minhyuk still feels Dongmin’s body spasming under his own as he presses a kiss into the velvety skin on Dongmin’s back.

The bliss only lasts for a moment. After the white numbness in his head clears, the dull ache in Minhyuk’s chest returns with full force.

He pulls out hurriedly, gets off the bed without a word.

Another body left behind.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I think we should go.’

Dongmin’s eyes are following his every move but he does his best to ignore them.

Although the coldness in his voice hurts, he needs it. It’s his shield against a bigger hurt. The one that only Dongmin can inflict on him.

He shoots one quick glance towards the bed and finds Dongmin watching him with red-rimmed eyes.

‘Get dressed, Dongmin. You got what you wanted; we’re leaving.’

Dongmin looks like someone has slapped him in the face.

‘Can we… talk?’

‘No. You could have done that a year ago. But no, you were only interested in a quick fuck, not talking. You couldn’t get out of my bed fast enough – do you remember? So no, I don’t want to talk to you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Dongmin looks small, sitting in the middle of the stained bed. ‘I ruined everything, didn’t I? I have hurt you and Bin and… and what are we even doing?’ He clutches his head in his hands.

‘If I’m not mistaken we’ve just fucked - nothing more.’

Minhyuk is hastily picking up his clothes off the floor, purposefully not looking towards the bed anymore.

‘Hyuk.’

He keeps his gaze averted. ‘Only people who love me get to call me Hyuk.’

Dongmin sobs out loud. ‘Minhyuk. Please?’

The shame is like a hot, sharp knife sinking into his flesh. Because no matter how hard he tries, if Dongmin is around, he can’t say no.

Hesitantly, he looks up.

Dongmin is standing in front of him, naked and covered in bite marks, bruises and dried blood, but so beautiful Minhyuk’s eyes water.

‘Minhyuk, I’m sorry,’ Dongmin takes his hands. ‘Back then, I took advantage of you and I’m really sorry. Please let me make it up to you now. We could make it work, you know?’

‘No.’

‘But…’

Minhyuk yanks his hands free. ‘What? Are you offering me your undying love? Or just your blood? Or your ass?’

Dongmin’s cheeks flush but he doesn’t answer.

‘Thought so. I don’t need a feeder, Dongmin. Or a fuck buddy. There are plenty of volunteers around – I like variety. I don’t need you for that.’

The lie taste like bile on his tongue – chokingly bitter. He is dying to jump at the possibility to keep Dongmin around, to have his blood and his body only for himself – but it hurts too much, the knowledge that their relationship would always be imbalanced, one-sided.

He wants more.

Dongmin sags in front of him, looking utterly dejected, and Minhyuk softens.

‘Come here,’ he pulls him close. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up.’

In the bathroom, they sit on the floor, while water is spattering into a big bathtub. Minhyuk cradles Dongmin in his arms and strokes his back.

Dongmin lays his head on his shoulder.‘ I’m sorry, Hyuk. Sorry for fucking up everything. I leave you alone after this, I promise, just hold me, please?’ His tears are soaking Minhyuk’s already sweaty skin.

He presses a kiss into the dark hair. ‘It’s ok. And stop blaming yourself for everything. It’s my fault too. I should have left you be back then; you were happy and I did everything I could possibly do to ruin it. I’m sorry, Min.’

‘I feel so lonely, Hyuk. So fucking alone.’

He doesn’t need to guess who is painfully absent from Dongmin’s life.

‘Do you miss him?’

‘I miss him so much.’

‘I’m so sorry, Min.’

They lower themselves into the warm water and Dongmin curls against Minhyuk’s chest, closing his eyes. He looks drained – of energy, of life, of everything – and Minhyuk’s immortal, still heart bleeds when he looks at him.

He longs to make Dongmin feel good. Not by biting - he wants to make Dongmin feel good the way Bin used to make him feel good. With love.

He maps the scars on Dongmin’s chest and neck with his lips – the milestones of loneliness and self-destruction – he wants to kiss them better, to erase the pain and cry for help each of them hides.

Dongmin might have erred but it was his sin too.

Minhyuk doesn’t believe in heaven and hell, not after two centuries of nothing behind him and eternity stretching endlessly ahead.

The worst hell is always inside one’s head.

The hell inside Dongmin’s head is right in front of him, visible in the white crescents peppering his skin, in the painful thinness of his body.

He longs to take it all back, to turn back time to the point where he was watching Bin and Dongmin eating dinner in their tiny kitchen, dusk soft around him as he perched on the roof across the street.

_Had I left him alone, like Jinwoo asked, would things be different now?_

He kisses Dongmin’s eyelids, the tired skin almost lilac with shadows, tries to kiss away the sleepless nights, the tears that don’t bring relief in the morning, only dry and stinging eyes and the dull pain in one’s chest that remains.

Dongmin whimpers a little at the touch, like a babe in arms, hiccupping after a long and painful cry.

It’s the sound that does it - vulnerable and sweet – and just like that, the desire is back again.

He knows it’s wrong - so wrong on so many levels - but his lips find Dongmin’s mouth and Dongmin lets him, sighing into his kiss, body angling into Minhyuk’s.

It feels different this time, the anger gone, replaced by tenderness and regret.

Dongmin straddles him, his slick warmth familiar as Minhyuk slides back in.

Slow, slow, slow.

This is the moment he used to picture in his head so man times he lost count. He, not Bin, holding Dongmin in his arms. Dongmin’s body open for him, Dongmin’s fingers in his hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

It’s all he has ever wanted.

Subconsciously, he mirrors the way Bin used to stroke Dongmin’s back, the way his hands always cradled the back of Dongmin’s head, holding him close.

It’s almost like he is there - not across the road, hiding amongst the branches of the old oak, watching their small attic room, but in Dongmin’s bed; he is Bin - and Dongmin loves him.

Dongmin’s body arches, finding the right angle, and Minhyuk leans back and lets him to take the lead, watches his face, beautiful in pleasure, even if he knows that all of this – any of it - will never belong to him.

‘It’s… ah… there… Binnie… oh god!’

With a cry, Dongmin comes and collapses against Minhyuk’s chest and he silently holds his body in his arms and lets the tears mix with droplets of bathwater on his face.

There is truly nothing left to say.

…..……………………..

They leave the club together.

Minhyuk is grateful for spotting Hyungwon at the bar. The guy doesn’t even blink at the sight of them, simply accepts the room key and slides it into the reader.

After giving them a short, cursory glance, he hands it over. ‘Here; you’re good to go.’

At the door, Jooheon scans their membership cards and the door clicks open. If the guard has noticed their interlinked fingers, he doesn’t comment.

‘Let’s get a taxi,’ Minhyuk waves down a cab before Dongmin has a chance to protest, one of the dodgy, unlicensed ones that hover in front of the club. The licensed ones don’t linger around here – he knows that much by now.

Dongmin doesn’t let go of his hand when the driver jumps out and opens the door for them.

The clump in Minhyuk’s throat gets bigger. ‘Can I come with you, please? I promise I don’t want anything – just to make sure you get home safe.’

‘Ok.’

Dongmin slides in, not letting go of his hand, and Minhyuk follows.

The apartment is in a run-down part of town, the air of neglect painting everything with a sad tinge that tightens Minhyuk’s throat.

‘What happened between you and Bin?’

They sit on a tiny, lumpy sofa in Dongmin’s little room. There are hangers with freshly washed shirts hanging in the one and only window but there is no curtain. Dongmin’s laptop sits on a low table, together with an empty coffee mug, but Minhyuk can't see any textbook or notes, anything that would mark the space as Dongmin’s. The place is so barren, it makes Minhyuk want to cry.

Dongmin curls up on the sofa and wraps his arms around himself. Despite being a balmy night outside, he looks freezing.

‘Bin left after we… after that night. He was furious; said he couldn’t believe I did something like this – you know, cheating. With a vampire.’

Minhyuk starts shaking. It’s one thing to know what happened. To see the consequences of what they did, right in front of him, is something else altogether.

‘But, but – you did tell him that it… That it didn’t mean anything?’

‘I did. It made no difference,’ Dongmin hangs his head. ‘Then maybe after two months he messaged me, saying he wanted to talk.’

‘And?’ Minhyuk can hardly breathe, even if he knows how things must have ended.

Dongmin gulps and shrinks in front of his eyes. ‘He came one night. The moment I opened the door, he threw in my face that I was a slut and should go to hell. I guess he didn’t want to talk after all. Only to tell me what he thought of me.’

‘No.’

Dongmin is not looking at him but words are coming now, like flood, the barrier gone.

Minhyuk is drowning.

‘After that I knew that was it. I knew he wouldn’t be coming back. I moved out soon after. On my own, the apartment was too expensive for me to afford but I had been hoping at first that Bin would come back. Well, that didn’t happen so… that was that. I left my job too, after I started going to Mephisto. My boss didn’t want someone with fresh bite marks meeting clients. People started to talk. Found a job not too far from here – a law practice as well – just a bit more dodgy… School – that sort of followed…’

‘You dropped out of school?’ Minhyuk feels his bile rising in his throat. The walls are closing in on him.

Dongmin runs a tired hand over his face. ‘It just seemed so pointless… ‘He sinks lower into the sofa. ‘I’m so tired…’

‘Let’s get you to bed,’ Minhyuk jumps up.

‘This is my bed,’ Dongmin’s eyes are already falling shut.

‘Oh,’ Minhyuk looks around in panic. Dongmin looks passed out, the long limbs stretched on the too short couch. Minhyuk hesitates. There is a worn blanket slung over the armrest and he covers Dongmin’s limp frame with it. When he is about to tiptoe out of the room, Dongmin grabs his hand, eyes still closed.

‘Can you stay until I fall asleep?’ he whispers. ‘I always have those… dreams. Hate falling asleep.’

‘Of course,’ Minhyuk whispers back. He settles on the floor, sitting next to Dongmin’s head and holding his hand.

A heavy silence settles in the tiny room. Different from the shouts outside, the traffic whooshing past under the windows, the occasional blaring of a police siren. The silence inside is dense with misery, thick with loneliness.

‘Do you think he will ever forgive me?’

Dongmin’s mumbled words are tinged with sleep, on the brink of consciousness, frank in the in-between space just before the mind goes blank – when the truth comes to the surface, unguarded and naked.

‘I don’t know, Min,’ Minhyuk strokes his hand quietly. ‘I hope he will.’

‘He won’t,’ Dongmin breathes out and his hand goes limp, letting go of Minhyuk’s sweaty fingers.

Minhyuk stays. He watches as Dongmin tosses and turns in his sleep, strokes his hand every time he cries out.

The night seems endless but a mere blink of an eye at the same time. When the grey dawn start seeping into the room and Dongmin’s breathing finally deepens, he leaves, heart heavy with guilt.

At home, he doesn’t cry any more.

Time for crying is over, it’s time to act.


	4. Chapter 4

‘Are you angry with me?’

Minhyuk sucks in a shuddery breath but doesn’t speak.

The sun is setting, streaming in through the kitchen windows and painting the dark wood of the table in a warm glow.

He traces the strip of gold with his finger, not quite touching it, and wonders idly how badly it would hurt if he did. How much it would burn.

‘No. I’m not angry with you.’

It’s a lie but Minhyuk doesn’t have it in him to argue with Myungjun right now. Or to listen to his endless stream of apologies.

Myungjun pulls back one of the heavy chairs and sits down next to him, carefully avoiding the sun. The rays are cutting through the space like an invisible divide, leaving one half of the room shrouded in soft, deepening shadows.

From his safe spot away form the sun, Minhyuk watches the odd speck of dust dancing in the light. There aren’t too many; the cleaner who comes every week does a thorough job; even if the kitchen is hardly ever used, she dutifully wipes and polishes, keeping the room gleaming. Minhyuk has read enough interior design magazines to know that if they were humans and entertained guests, their massive kitchen with its black and white floor tiles, an old-fashioned range and a deep butler sink, would be the source of envy amongst manicured housewives of the upper middle classes whose houses across the park can be glimpsed in winter from the upstairs windows, when trees are bare of leaves, branches naked and dripping with misty rain.

Out of the kitchen window he can see a sliver of the park in the distance through the wrought-iron gates, but not the houses. The imposing elms and oaks have yet to shed their leaves; they are still stunning in their early autumn glory, only just beginning to colour burnt orange and yellow.

Minhyuk watches the light outside changing as the sun dips lower. He keeps his eyes stubbornly away from Myungjun.

‘Hyuk, please.’

Myungjun shifts, movements heavy with unease. The chair scrapes loudly on the tiles, the sound echoing in the hollow space.

‘I am so sorry, Hyuk,’ Myungjun whispers unhappily. ‘It’s all my fault. I knew about Dongmin – but I swear I didn’t mean to make him look bad in your eyes or anything like that. I simply hoped that you might be able to meet and sort things out. You were so unhappy; it was breaking my heart.’

‘How did you even know it was him?’

Minhyuk watches the last vestiges of the golden glow disappear.

‘I sort of guessed. You let it slip that his name was Dongmin and that he was beautiful. When I saw him at the club, people mentioned he had broken up with someone; I thought it must have been you. Didn’t realised you’ve never really been together – but my guess was right anyway. I promise you, though, it was only to help you.’

‘Well, it didn’t.’

‘But – I’ve heard that, you know…’

‘Oh my god,’ groans Minhyuk. ‘Is everyone talking about Dongmin and me now? Yes, we fucked, so what? That doesn’t mean we are together!’

‘I’m sorry, I just thought…’

‘It’s ok,’ Minhyuk deflates, all fight gone out of him suddenly. ‘I know how it must have looked like.’

He runs a tired hand through his hair. ‘We are not together. He still loves his ex. Even after a year.’

He gets up, the body and mind heavy, weighed to the ground by guilt.

‘Where are you going?’ Myungjun tries to grab his hand but Minhyuk avoids his touch and heads for the door.

‘Out.’

Slumped at the table, Myungjun doesn’t move but his eyes follow Minhyuk out of the room.

…………………………..

‘Ah, Minhyuk. Welcome back.’

Hyungwon behind the bar throws him a friendly smile as Minhyuk slides on the last empty barstool.

The friendliness unsettles him a little – as if he wasn’t sure he deserved it, not with what happened here last week. But now is not the time to dwell on the events from last Friday.

‘I would like to speak to Kihyun. Is he here tonight?’

Hyungwon, to his credit, doesn’t ask why is Minhyuk requesting an audience and nods amiably. ‘He was here earlier but has now disappeared somewhere. I can check for you whether he is coming back later.’

‘Thank you,’ exhales Minhyuk, even if the answer makes his insides quiver with nerves.

Hyungwon whips a phone out of his pocket and, giving him a quick thumbs-up, disappears at the back.

Minhyuk is left alone. He wonders if tonight things will be set in motion that will change things between him and Dongmin – maybe change them irrevocably.

Hyungwon returns, shaking his head ruefully. ‘Sorry. He is not coming back tonight. Do you want to speak to Changkyun instead?’

‘No, I’m fine,’ Minhyuk hangs his head. ‘I’ll try another day.’

‘Would you like something?’

If he were in a good mood, Minhyuk would feel amused by the pretence, by the façade they all try to maintain – but today he feels too jittery with nerves to find a cocky response to that and merely murmurs that a glass of blood would be great.

‘What about joining me in the den instead?’

He swivels around.

‘Hi, Minhyuk,’ Wonho is looking at him, a cheeky smile on his face. ‘Nice to see you again. Jinwoo or Myungjun haven’t been for a while; are you taking over these days, making sure your family is represented here at least once a week?’

Minhyuk stares. If it were anybody else, he would probably turn away brusquely in order to avoid any conversation that might potentially involve his maker and his brother. But seeing Wonho’s kind face, the frown dies on his face. No matter how tense things are at home – and the atmosphere has been truly frosty – Wonho is not to blame for the mess he inadvertently became a part of. Minhyuk knows that the feeder is merely doing his job; no matter how much he wants to blame the muscly young man in front of him for what’s happening, his instinct tells him that Wonho, with the look of such pure innocence in his eyes that Minhyuk has not seen since he was a mortal child, is as unaware of the storm he has caused as Minhyuk himself has been until two weeks ago.

He sighs and braces himself for what’s about to come. For shattering that blissful ignorance with which Wonho is watching him now.

‘I need to talk to you. About Jinwoo and Muyngjun.’

Wonho’s face falters a little - a split of a second of something unguarded, a shadow of uncertainty – but he regains his composure with astonishing swiftness. ‘Of course.’

He climbs onto the bar stool next to Minhyuk. ‘What do you want to talk to me about?’

Minhyuk shakes his head, trembling with nerves. ‘No… Not here. I… I want to go upstairs with you. Not to feed – or anything. I just need to talk to you – alone.

Wonho’s features remain cautious. ‘Yeah, sure,’ he shrugs a little and slips off the stool, waiting patiently for Minhyuk to lead the way.

The silence in the transaction room is awkward. Minhyuk almost drops his membership card; his fingers are quivering so badly. Wonho, sweet soul, walks away a little, to give him some privacy.

Relieved at not having the feeder looking over his shoulders and witnessing his fumbling, Minhyuk finishes as fast as he can.

‘Let’s go.’

‘What room?’ Wonho smiles softly.

‘Uh,’ Minhyuk glances at the card that he is clutching. ‘Three.’

‘Fine.’

Wonho’s hand taking his is warm and reassuring. Minhyuk winces inwardly when he thinks of his own clammy palms. There is no reason why he should feel like this – there will be no biting, no sex, no nothing – but the mere fact that he is going upstairs, that people will _think_ he is going all to do all those things, is making him sweat.

As they pass through the den, he keeps his eyes stubbornly on the floor and thanks the providence it’s Gail who is manning the door tonight. To see Jooheon’s earnest face would be too much.

The staircase with its maroon walls and deeps carpets feels almost suffocating but the room itself is a pleasant surprise, a soothing mix of dark polished wood and muted greys and teals, in stark contrast with his expectations.

‘What did you want to talk me about?’

Wonho sits down on the edge of the bed, a cautious edge to his voice more pronounced now, more noticeable in the room filled with tense silence.

‘Is there something going on between you and Jinwoo?’

‘What?’

Wonho’s face is perfectly blank but it doesn’t escape Minhyuk how his face grows a fraction whiter under the measured, self-imposed calm.

‘Is there something going on between you and Jinwoo?’ he repeats bluntly. ‘Are you two fucking behind Myungjun’s back?’

‘No!’

Wonho’s shock seems genuine and Minhyuk feels ashamed all of a sudden.

‘Ok,’ he concedes. ‘Maybe not fucking – but is there anything going on? I need to know. Please.’

He sits down on the bed, maintaining a careful distance.

Wonho gulps down uneasily. ‘Why are you asking?’

‘Jinwoo and Myungjun had a fight. Because of you.’

‘Oh. I see.’

The silence lasts for so long, Minhyuk feels he could get a knife and cut it up like a nice, thick, rare steak.

Wonho is looking at his hands, folded in his lap. ‘I swear there is nothing going on between us,’ he whispers unhappily. ‘It’s true that I approached Jinwoo and asked if he was interested in having a more… regular kind of arrangement – and he said yes. But that was not because I was interested in having an... an affair with him. I just like him.’

‘You like him?’ Minhyuk squeaks in shock.

‘No!’ Wonho’s hands flail in the air. ‘Not like that! I mean I like him because he is a nice man. Person. Because he is kind. He is a great customer, I wish there were more like him but, you know…’

He trails off, shrugging.

Confused, Minhyuk stares at him. ‘What do you mean?’

Wonho laughs, sweetly embarrassed, probably aware that he is giving away too much. ‘Not all the vamps who come here are the same; some are nicer, some less so. But Jinwoo is genuinely the nicest one of them all. He’s fun to be around, always lovely; never tried to patronise or humiliate me.’

Minhyuk feels like a kid who has just discovered that fairies don’t exist.

‘Humiliate? But… Why would anyone humiliate you? Kihyun said you and Minhyuk are the ones who…’

Wonho’s face falls apart a little, and there, underneath, is a flash of purity, sweet and vulnerable - and a little broken.

‘Yes, I know. He told you that we can chose our customers. And it’s sort of true but it also isn’t, at least in my case. It’s true we can pick whom we allow to bite us. And it works; nobody dares to grope us or make stupid innuendos – or not too often. This is a nice place to work, the guys are great, Hyunwoo and all the guards, and it pays really well.’

Minhyuk frowns. ‘How do you actually find a job like this?’

Wonho shrugs. ‘Minhyuk introduced me; it’s been eighteen months, I think. I was working as a personal trainer at the time but used to come here regularly. He simply spoke to me one night, asked whether I would be interested. A couple of months later I joined.’

‘So how come it’s not really your choice what you do?’

The smile Wonho gives him says it all – grown up and wise and with no illusions whatsoever.

‘It’s all about money, isn’t it? We earn enough here, we really do. In theory, I could just walk around every night, pick someone and let them feed in the den and I would be fine. But every time we go upstairs, we earn extra. Compensation for the risks. Kinhyun always stresses we shouldn’t feel obliged to go – that it’s more for the horny couples who can't separate feeding from sex. But I need the money.’

Wonho runs a hand through his hair, a weary gesture, at odds with his soft, constantly smiley persona Minhyuk has grown used to see downstairs.

‘Minhyuk’s parents are well off,’ he says quietly. ‘For him this is a little bit of fun. He likes the high, the adrenaline. And when he gets tired of it, he will probably start working in his father’s firm or something like that. I don’t have that luxury. My mum has raised my brother and me on her own and we never had much when growing up. That’s why I take customers upstairs even if I don’t really need to - because it pays double. I’m saving up.

‘What for?’

Wonho softens.

‘If I could do whatever I wanted, I would do music. I always wanted to – I write songs when I have time but it’s not easy to break through in the industry with only a battered guitar, no money to rent a studio and no connections.’

‘So you are saving up to have your own studio one day?’

Wonho shakes his head a little sadly. ‘I wish. I want to open a gym first. That’s more of a steady income; I would be able to help Mum too. Music – well; I will do it one day, when I have saved up enough. For now, I might need another year or two and I can leave.’

‘Oh god.’

‘It’s not a very glamorous job, I know,’ Wonho shrugs, ears glowing pink. ‘I mean I get bitten and I have sex for money. When you say it out loud, it sounds awful. But I don’t mind, most of the time.’

Minhyuk knows he must look horrified because Wonho pokes his shoulder and laughs.

‘Stop looking so shocked. I like sex; I don’t see anything bad about it – and when people are nice, it’s really fun.’

‘But what when they are not?’

Wonho sobers up a little and a shrug of his shoulders breaks Minhyuk’s heart. ‘I have a pretty good radar for genuine assholes. There is no way I would take them upstairs, no matter how good the tips. And in case I make a serious error in judgement,’ he smiles a little cheekily, ‘me and Minhyuk both have a panic button on us, ready to be used at all times. Can't tell you where, for obvious reasons,’ he laughs a little. ‘So we are good. I try not to use it unless really necessary though. Mostly it’s not. Mostly people are just unkind – belittling. As if they didn’t think I could possibly have a brain – just because I earn money with my body. But that’s something I can stomach.’

Wonho’s face softens.

‘That’s why I approached Jinwoo some months ago. He is one of the nicest vamps I have ever met. Never patronising, always treats me with respect.’

‘Yeah, that’s Jinwoo.’

A silence settles in the room again but it’s softer now, gentler. Less tense.

‘If you had enough money, would you leave here?

‘In a heartbeat.’

Minhyuk blinks away tears that are starting to sting in his eyes.

‘Is this place that awful?’ he whispers.

‘No,’ Wonho shakes his head slowly, a small smile sitting shyly at the corner of his mouth. ‘Not at all. I like the people I work with; they are my friends, we are like a family. But I have my dream too.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Please, don’t,’ Wonho closes his eyes for a second and exhales, slowly, deliberately, through his nose. ‘I don’t need anyone’s pity. One day I will have everything I have ever dreamed of.’

Minhyuk aches at the sight of so much hope against all odds. ‘I know you will.’

He smiles at the young man sitting next to him who, despite everything, looks so pure that Minhyuk wants to keep him forever and just look at him from time to time to cleanse his undead soul.

He covers Wonho’s hand with his. ‘Will you talk to Myungjun and Jinwoo when they come next time? Please? Just tell them what you’ve told me. I don’t want Myungjun scared he will lose Jinwoo.’

‘I will,’ Wonho looks at him earnestly. ‘I don’t want them fighting over me. I’m not worth it.’

‘No!’ Minhyuk gasps horrified. ‘Don’t say that, please! You are a really nice, decent person; I just don’t want Myungjun to be scared. He agreed to be turned only because he was in love - I don’t want him thinking he might lose his love and be left with nothing.’

‘How does it feel to become a vampire?’ whispers Wonho. ‘I’ve never asked anyone – I mean, once we go upstairs, the customers are mostly not into talking too much, if you know what I mean.’

His cheeks turn a little pink.

Minhyuk smiles. ‘It’s absolutely crazy at the beginning. You are so thirsty your head feels like it’s going to explode all the time. After a while it fades but the thirst is always there, like a constant itch – you just learn to live with it.’

‘Wow,’ frowns Wonho. ‘That must be… That must be quite hard.’

It’s Minhyuk’s turn to shrug. ‘I guess it is. But you learn to accept it. Obviously, there are vampires that allow the thirst to rule them – but if you leave countless bodies behind way too often you can't stay anywhere for too long. Jinwoo was never like that; he always shied away from killing and we’ve been here in the area for years.’

‘And you? Do you kill when you feed?’

Wonho kicks off his shoes and settles crossed-legged on the bed. Something warm fills Minhyuk’s chest when he watches his friendly, open face. He reads no judgement in Wonho’s eyes, no disgust. As if the fact that he was a vampire didn’t mattered at all. As if, for once, he was just Minhyuk, allowed to admit who he is – without fear.

‘I used to,’ he cringes a little. ‘I was always too scared to charm anyone, so I would always kill after feeding, mostly to make their dying quicker. But I don’t want that anymore. It’s nicer not to have to do that.’

‘It is,’ chuckles softly Wonho.’ That’s where we come in, me and Minhyuk, the other Minhyuk.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ there is a hint of laughter in Minhyuk’s voice. ‘It’s such a common name.’

He scoots closer on the bed and leans back against the headboard.

‘So - how does it feel to get bitten?’

Wonho hums thoughtfully. ‘It’s hard to explain. I mean, it really hurts at the beginning but the venom gets into your bloodstream very quickly and when it kicks in it’s like getting drunk really fast – you start sort of floating, almost like your head is levitating above your body. Everything feels perfect, total bliss.’

He laughs a little shamefacedly. ‘Sometimes I come just by being bitten.’

‘Wow.’

Minhyuk needs to look away because he is becoming too aware of Wonho’s heated cheeks. Of the way his heart rate is picking up. Of the smell of his blood, warm and enticing.

‘Minhyuk?’

‘Yeah?’

He keeps his gaze lowered, fingers nervously clutching the immaculate bed sheets, when Wonho’s palm covers his hand.

Startled, he looks up but when his eyes find Wonho’s there is no fear in them, despite the wild thumping of his heart.

‘Do you want to feed?’

‘I… No!’ he splutters. ‘I promised we wouldn’t…’

‘It’s ok,’ Wonho smiles gently. ‘We’ve been cooped up here in one room for way too long; it was bound to happen. I can see it on you.’

‘You do?’

‘Yeah; your fingers are digging holes into the covers and you are scenting like a hound.’

‘Oh my god,’ Minhyuk covers his face. ‘I’m sorry!’

Wonho’s laugh is beautifully carefree and it calms Minhyuk down some. He peeks at Wonho from behind his fingers.

‘You don’t mind?’

Wonho shakes his head. ‘This is my job and you are my customer. As customers go, you are a pretty nice one; with you, I don’t mind getting out of my head a little tonight. I wouldn’t even mind to do a little more – but somehow I have a feeling that’s not on the cards.’

‘No.’ Minhyuk gulps down nervously. ‘I… I think my life is a real mess right now; I don’t want to sleep with yet another person who is not in love with me – no offence.’

Wonho smirks a little and crawls over.

‘None taken, Minhyuk,’ he whispers breathily with a crooked smile and Minhyuk can see why people would fall for him in a heartbeat. ‘You are free to have a bite though. What do you think?’

On all fours, he leans forward and allows Minhyuk to nose at his neck, to inhale his beautifully clean, alluring scent.

Minhyuk’s head begins to spin. Is he really so useless at self-control?

‘I’m sorry that I can't, you know, rein myself in.’

Wonho pulls back with a soft chuckle and sheds his shirt. He lies down on the bed and motions for Minhyuk to come closer.

‘Come here and stop feeling guilty. You are really cute when you’re embarrassed.’

Minhyuk decides he will not dissect how mortified he is right now. He snuggles into Wonho’s side, shutting his eyes. There is something reassuring about Wonho’s scent; the hunger that’s fuelled by it is like a low, steady hum, sweet and aching a little, and he bites down shyly, almost scared to cause pain.

Wonho arches with a shuddery sigh when Minhyuk’s fangs break the skin on his chest but soon goes pliant, stroking Minhyuk’s hair as he feeds.

The shadows in the room grow longer, indistinct, tinged with heaviness. Minhyuk’s eyelids start drooping, even as he feeds. Through a foggy haze, he listens to Wonho’s soft, slow groans, to the quickening of his breath towards the end, to the sharp gasp when he comes.

Wonho gently pushes him off after a while but his arms keep Minhyuk enveloped like safe fences against the night.

He falls asleep curled against Wonho’s chest, listening to the reassuring beating of a human heart.

……..………………..….

‘Jinwoo?’

Minhyuk pauses in front of the library and knocks on the door; a new one that Jinwoo had delivered after Minhyuk had painstakingly swept all the splinters away and carried the shattered remnants to a shed at the back of the garden.

They never speak of the incident again but the atmosphere in the house gets thick with things that remain unsaid, with words that are there, hanging in the air, heavy and foreboding.

Myungjun starts sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms and scarcely ventures outside. Jinwoo shuts himself in the library and barely leaves it either.

Minhyuk feels like he is drowning in his own home.

‘Come in!’

He pokes his head inside and finds Jinwoo curled up on a sofa, reading a book.

‘Hey, Hyukkie.’

Jinwoo’s smile is a little tired around the edges, a little older, as if he has exhausted his reserves of strength in the last couple of weeks.

‘Hey.’

Minhyuk lowers himself onto the sofa next to Jinwoo.

‘How much money do you think I would need if I wanted to have a music studio?’

………………………..

The door to the office is open but Kihyun is looking at something on his laptop, eyebrows knitted, and typing away.

Unsure how to announce himself, Minhyuk knocks on the doorframe.

Kihyun looks up from the screen. At the sight of Minhyuk knocking, he smiles, closes his laptop and motions him to come in.

‘Mr Park. Nice to see you again. What can I do for you?’

‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’

‘Sure. Have a seat. Drink?’

Minhyuk sinks onto one of the leather sofas surrounding a low coffee table in the middle of the room. He avoids the chair in front of Kihyun’s desk. He needs to keep the balance of power tipped in his favour today – and sitting in front of Kihyun, like a school kid summoned by his headmaster, that simply wouldn’t do right now.

Kihyun moves briskly, opening a little cabinet in the corner. In a flash, a glass appears in front of Minhyuk’s face, the dark red liquid swaying slightly.

The blood tastes differently this time, sweeter, with a very faint undertone of, perhaps, caramel. The donor was definitely a lover of all things sugary, concludes Minhyuk and takes a hungry gulp to steady his nerves. He wonders whether the gesture is a mere demonstration of hospitality on Kihyun’s part or a precaution, in case the hunger got to him and he decided to go after Kihyun’s throat.

Kihyun doesn’t return to his desk but choses the opposite sofa. Minhyuk feels his polite, yet guarded gaze assessing the situation.

‘What can I do for you, Mr Park?’

‘Please, call me Minhyuk.’

Kihyun smiles, that tiny smile which doesn’t quite reach the eyes. Cautious. A little wary.

‘Ok, Minhyuk. What can I do for you?’

‘Could you help me find Dongmin’s boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend, I mean. You might have his details in your database.’

The tiny smile disappears. The wariness in Kihyun’s eyes grows.

‘We don’t give out personal information, I’m afraid.’

‘Please. I… I need to find him.’

‘Why?’

‘I need to talk to him.’

‘What makes you think we have his details?’

Minhyuk gulps nervously. ‘Because on my application, I had to fill in the emergency contact. Dongmin must have done the same.’

Kihyun purses his lips. ‘As I said, we can't give out any details regarding our clients. And how can you be sure it’s his boyfriend who is listed as his emergency contact?’

‘I don’t know,’ he shrugs. ‘It’s a shot in the dark. But Dongmin has no other family here; he is an only child and his parents are dead.’

For the first time since they have started talking, Kihyun’s eyes sharpen.

‘How do you know all that?’

Minhyuk sighs. ‘Because we know each other. And because I am the reason why he behaves the way he does; why he is here every month, trying to forget.’

‘I don’t think I follow, Minhyuk.’

He inhales sharply; this is a game and he is not sure whether he is playing it right – but with Kihyun, honesty is probably the way to go.

‘A year ago, his boyfriend broke up with him because Dongmin cheated on him – with me.’

Into the stunned silence, the door to the office opens with a swing and Changkyun breezes in, a big, satisfied grin on his face.

‘Hey, baby, I thought I should tell you…’

Seeing Kihyun has a visitor, he stops in his tracks. ‘Hey, Hyuk.’

The tension in the room seems to be coiling around them like a thick fog. Changkyun frowns, eyes darting from Kihyun to Minhyuk and back.

‘Everything alright?’

Kihyun cocks his head a little. ‘Minhyuk is trying to get me to divulge some personal details of one of our clients.’

‘Ooh, I like the sound of it.’

‘Changkyun, please.’

‘Baby,’ Changkyun plops into Kihyun’s lap. ‘Relax. He must have a good reason for it.’

Ignoring the furious blush on Kihyun’s face, Changkyun turns to Minhyuk. ‘I’m listening.’

Minhyuk shuffles his feet uncomfortably.

‘I… I am trying to get in touch with Dongmin’s ex-boyfriend. I need to talk to him – and you might have his details.’

‘Why do you need to talk to him?’

‘That’s private.’

The truth is, Minhyuk doesn’t really know what he wants. The desire to find out more about what had happened a year ago is urgent, almost a constant scratching at the back of his mind, but the goal itself is vague, shifting – changing with every swing of Minhyuk’s mood.

‘Aww, come on,’ whines Changkyun. ‘It’s a fair exchange; we might supply you with the details and you will tell us your story. I bet there is a story. Tell me you are thinking the same, Ki.’

He bounces a little on Kihuyn’s lap, the childish excitement not quite matching the smirk on his face. Minhyuk notices that Kihyun, in contrast to his boyfriend, is looking as if listening to Minhyuk’s confession was as exciting a prospect for him as a walk over hot coals.

‘I think we should make it clear that we can't share our clients’ details – under any circumstances. And I mean any. Changkyun, don’t.’

Kihyun looks pained but doesn’t do anything to remove Changkyun from his lap, letting his boyfriend twist the short hair at the nape of his neck.

Minhyuk weighs his options. Despite Kihyun’s reservations, the whole case doesn’t seem completely hopeless, not with Changkyun in the picture, grinning at him expectantly and clearly not caring about Kihyun’s disapproval.

‘There is not much of a story,’ he sighs. ‘I met Dongmin a year ago, almost bit him – but in the end I let him go.’

‘Wow. Despite the brevity of the narrative, I must say that’s some self-restraint right there.’

There is definitely laughter in Changkyun’s voice but Minhyuk lets it pass. He can't afford to get huffy now.

‘Anyway. Maybe a month later, I bumped into him again,’ he doesn’t mention the stalking; the memory is a shameful shadow even after a year, weighing heavily on his conscience. ‘We kissed and he let me feed. And we had sex.’

‘Good grief, sweetheart, you wouldn’t make it out there as a storyteller,’ Changkyun rolls his eyes a little.

‘What happened after?’

Minhyuk jumps at the quiet sound of Kihyun’s voice. He almost forgot about him, too focused on Changkyun’s eager, almost tactless curiosity and his own mortification.

‘What happened to you both?’ Kihyun is watching him. Although his gaze is intent, Minhyuk feels safe. There is no judgement in Kihyun’s eyes, only gentle concern.

He looks away, the pain still fresh, even after a year. ‘He said it was the best night of his life but that we both had our separate lives that we needed to go back to.’

‘Oh.’

Hearing the softness in Kihyun’s exhale hurts more than Minhyuk has expected. He keeps his head down, avoiding the other’s eyes, dreading the pity in them.

‘But why?’ Changkyun voice is high-pitched with outrage.

‘I don’t know,’ Minhyuk whispers unhappily.

‘Maybe you charmed him and he wasn’t quite himself when he agreed to things,’ Changkyun muses. ‘Did you? Did you charm him?’

‘I… I don’t know.’

‘How come you don’t know?’

‘I definitely wasn’t trying to… but I’ve never been good at it anyway… Never tried it actually, so…’

‘I’m not even going to ask what methods you used to employ to feed,’ groans Kihyun and rubs his forehead wearily. ‘I’m going to pretend I haven’t heard the implied message that you never bothered to learn how to charm and simply used to kill all people you had fed from. Otherwise I might start questioning my own judgement when it comes to accepting new members.’

‘So you don’t know what happened?’

‘Not really. I don’t really know whether I charmed him back then.’

‘Maybe you should find out.’

There is something not quite innocent in Changkyun’s eyes, a little mischievous flame that tells Minhyuk this conversation is going to take a whole new turn.

‘What?’

‘I’m saying that we should test your ability to charm,’ Changkyun cocks his head and looks at Minhyuk, eyebrows arched high.

‘What do you mean?’ Minhyuk frowns in confusion.

Kihyun finally gets rid of Changkyun on his lap – but only because the other leaps up excitedly.

‘You can try and charm me; then we will see if you are able to do it.’

‘Changkyun.’

Kihyun voice is soft – softer than Minhyuk has ever heard it – but there is a hint of something in it that’s rather unsettling. Minhyuk struggles with deciphering it; is it a threat? Or anger?

Changkyun, on the other hand, smiles sweetly in Kihyun’s direction. ‘Don’t worry, baby. I will be careful.’

Judging by Kihyun’s embarrassed huff, his boyfriend must have hit the bull’s eye. Minhyuk hides a smile at the sudden realisation that this prim, austere young man with a reputation that is nothing if not truly frightening, is scared about his lover getting hurt.

‘Are you serious?’

His question might be directed at Changkyun but the furtive glance he casts in Kihyun’s direction reveals the man not looking particularly enamoured by the idea.

‘Positive.’ Changkyun sits back next to Kihyun and strokes his cheek. ‘Come on, baby. We haven’t had this kind of fun for a while now.’

‘Changkyun,’ Kihyun’s hiss is low but Minhyuk can hear it loud and clear. ‘Not… Not in front of others.’

‘Oh, but no one can see us here.’

The thoughts in Minhyuk’s head are jumping frantically, leaping like panicked frogs. At first, he dismisses the idea immediately – but the more he thinks about it, the more he likes it.

Here, he could find out whether it was Dongmin _himself_ who agreed to everything or whether it was his charm that was responsible for the events from a year ago.

Minhyuk is not quite sure how the truth will impact his decision – but he wants to find out anyway.

He needs to know.

‘Ok.’

The words may be directed at Changkyun but his gaze flits to Kihyun for a second. ‘If you’re both ok with it.’

Changkyun leaps up excitedly and crosses the room to lock the door. He then turns over with a satisfied grin and saunters over to the sofa. ‘Perfect.’

He is not that much taller than him, Minhyuk observes, but the way he commands the space, the way he watches Minhyuk – as if he was the prey, not the other way round - intimidates him a little.

‘So,’ Changkyun sits down next to Minhyuk and leans back comfortably. One of his arms sneaks behind Minhyuk, not quite touching him, and comes to rest on the soft leather, mere inches from Minhyuk’s shoulder.

He feels the warmth of Changkyun’s skin and hears the loud beating of his heart, the faint whispering of his blood.

His fangs start showing but Changkyun doesn’t seem to be worried.

‘Give me your best,’ he smiles into Minhyuk’s eyes and leans closer. ‘And if you manage to charm me, you can have a bite.’

Minhyuk inhales deeply and doesn’t bother to hide his fangs anymore.

‘Hold on for a second.’

Both Changkyun’s and his head snap around and watch Kihyun getting up and heading for his desk. He rummages for a while in one of the drawers and pick up something, holding it behind his back.

Minhyuk stills. His whole body turns like a sunflower, following Kihyun’s delicate frame circling the sofa and stopping behind Changkyun. In his hand there is a long, thin letter opener and, with a shiver, Minhyuk realises it’s made of silver.

‘I just want you to know one thing.’

Kihyun is not watching him. Instead, his eyes are resting on top of Changkyun’s head. ‘Changkyun means everything to me.’

With his free hand, he cups Changkyun’s cheek and tilts his head backwards. The bared column of Changkyun’s throat makes Minhyuk feel faint but he doesn’t dare to move an inch, not with Kihyun’s eyes watching him like a hawk, even if he is still smiling, the apples of his cheeks round and cute, belying the sharpness of his gaze.

Kihyun’s fingers graze the tender skin right under Changkyun’s ear. Minhyuk sees the boy’s eyes fluttering shut, hears his heart rate picking up a notch.

‘This is not the first time we are doing this.’

At the sound of Kihyun’s voice, Minhyuk’s forces himself to look up, away from Changkyun’s throat.

‘However,’ Kihyun reaches lower, tracing the pulsing vein on the side of Changkyun’s neck, throbbing delicate and blue under Kihyun’s fingers. ‘You are a stranger, Minhyuk, so to speak. I hope there will be no unpleasant… surprises.’

‘Babe,’ Changkyun breathes out, eyes still closed. ‘You are scaring him. Relax and enjoy the sight, like you usually do.’

Kihyun tips his boyfriend’s head further back and kisses his eyelids. ‘I rather have Minhyuk here scared, than you dead.’

‘I promise I will not harm Changkyun,’ Minhyuk interjects hastily. The whole set-up is starting to make him nervous and he wonders briefly whether he should have said no to the whole idea and perhaps asked Wonho later.

Changkyun, however, opens his eyes and reaches out for his hand.

‘You have to excuse Ki,’ he smirks a little. ‘He always gets jittery around new vampires joining us.’

Minhyuk lets himself being pulled closer and tries to forget Kihyun’s watchful gaze.

‘What do we… how do we do it?’

Changkyun smiles a little cheekily. ‘Let’s replay the whole thing. What were you doing before Dongmin let you feed?’

‘We were kissing.’

He drops his voice to almost whispering, as if he was sharing a secret, and finally summons the courage to look into Changkyun’s eyes.

He is not sure what he has been expecting - maybe mockery or some calculating, cynical appraisal – but Changkyun’s eyes are surprisingly soft, the pupils blown wide and expectant.

‘You can kiss me if you want to.’

Minhyuk braces himself for Kihyun’s protest but none comes. In the silence of the room both Kihyun’s and Changkyun’s hearts are thumping so wildly that Minhyuk’s head is starting to spin as things suddenly click into place.

Kihyun likes this, he thinks to himself, thoroughly shocked. He likes watching his boyfriend getting bitten.

Despite feeling dizzy, he looks up, seeking the man’s approval, and he gets it, a tiny nod – even if the fingers of Kihyun’s left hand are still wrapped around Changkyun’s throat in a protective manner and his right hand has not let go off the silver blade.

Minhyuk leans in.

Changkyun’s scent is different than Dongmin’s or Wonho’s, more musky - bolder somehow – but the drumming of his heartbeat is pushing all Minhyuk’s thoughts aside. He carefully licks into the boy’s mouth, gently and unhurried, and is almost shocked when Changkyun responds unabashedly, hands sliding into the hair at the nape of Minhyuk’s neck, his tongue sliding into Minhyuk’s mouth.

The nerves disappear; part of Minhyuk’s consciousness whispers in a tiny voice that he actually enjoys this - the thrill of being watched – before he remembers why he is here and he breaks up the kiss. He cards his fingers through the hair on Changkyun’s temple, looking him in the eye, not breaking the contact. It’s like a staring contest on steroids and a wave of dark thrill shoots through his body when Changkyun’s eyes glaze over.

‘Come on, Hyuk,’ Changkyun’s voice is hoarse, as if he has lost his ability to speak. ‘Bite me.’

He bites down into the juncture between Changkyun’s shoulder and neck, half-aware that Kihyun is twisting the boy’s body so that Minhyuk’s fangs avoid the jugular.

He swallows in a frenzy. The aroma of Changkyun’s blood is overriding all of his senses, somehow made even more potent by the fact that there is another scent added to the mix; he can smell the sweat beading along Kihyun’s hairline and dampening his groin; he can hear Kihyun’s frantic heartbeat.

After a while, Kihyun’s hand pushes him off, none too gently. He struggles for a second, unwilling to move, but the silver blade inches closer into his field of vision and he retracts hastily, almost feeling the unpleasant hiss of the metal on his skin.

He sits back on the sofa, panting. Next to him, Changkyun has tipped his head back and is staring at the ceiling, looking thoroughly blissed out.

Kihyun exhales and pushes a couple of sweaty strands off Changkyun’s forehead.

None of them speak for a while.

‘So?’ Minhyuk pipes up when he can't bear to wait anymore. ‘Have I charmed you?’

Changkyun looks a little tired but his eyes are clear, the bratty, childish demeanour gone. The look he gives Minhyuk is gentle, almost sad.

‘No, Hyuk. You didn’t.’

‘Oh.’

Minhyuk curls into himself, unsure what to feel. ‘But how… How do you know?’

There is definitely more than a hint of pity in Changkyun’s voice. ‘If you charmed me, I wouldn’t remember what happened. But I do. I remember everything. There was a pull for a bit at the beginning; I could feel myself going a little hazy when you were looking me in the eyes – so you are potentially able to do it if you really wanted to but you would need to work on it – but no. You didn’t charm me.’

Minhyuk hugs himself, feeling shaky. He can't quite identify what he feels at the moment, thoughts whirring wildly in his head. If Dongmin wasn’t charmed, it means he slept with Minhyuk out of his own free will.

As if reading his thoughts, Changkyun looks him directly in the eye. ‘I think we are safe to say your Dongmin knew what he was doing.’

Minhyuk is not at all sure what to do with this piece of information.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for any typos - this chapter was not proofread. Will come back to it when I had some sleep lol 
> 
> Thank you for all your love - here we are, finally at the end!
> 
> ..................................

‘This was not part of the deal!’

Minhyuk crosses his arms in front of his chest, trying to look intimidating. He has a strong suspicion, however, that between Kihyun - looking every inch the businessman he is – and Changkyun – sprawled on the sofa, looking every inch the mafia boss he is - he himself has only succeeded in looking like a stroppy toddler.

Changkyun’s patient smile does not waver. ‘I’m very sorry but we are not allowed to share any information regarding our client-‘

‘But you said something else!‘

He knows he is shouting; he knows this is not the way to persuade Changkyun - let alone Kihyun – but his patience, already worn thin by the events of the last couple of weeks, has finally run out.

‘You,’ he jabs a finger at Changkyun’s chest, ‘told me that if I share my story you will help me. This is not helping!’

‘As I’ve said,’ continues Changkyun, unruffled by Minhyuk’s outburst, ‘we can't share out our clients’ data but – ‘

In the dense silence, Changkyun leans closer. ‘What I _can_ do is to introduce you to someone who knows both Dongmin and Bin and will tell you where Bin lives. That way I’m not breaking any rules and,’ he turns briefly to wink at Kihyun, ‘you will get what you want.’

‘Yeah, no,’ huffs Minhyuk. ‘I have no guarantee that this whoever it is will tell me anything. They might just laugh in my face and I will be left with nothing. This is _not_ what we’ve agreed on!’

Kihyun opens his mouth to speak, clearly running out of patience, but Changkyun beats him to it.

‘Oh, he will tell you everything,’ he grins at Minhyuk, a confident gleam in his eye. ‘The boy owes me big time. He’s been sneaking out to come here, despite having failed some important exam or two, apparently. His parents are furious. If I let it slip that I saw him here several times in the last month or so… oh boy.’

Changkyun winks at Minhyuk and leans close to whisper in his ear. ‘Don’t worry, Hyuk. He will tell you everything.’

The deep drawl of Changkyun’s voice makes Minhyuk shiver and he pulls back a little. It seems illogical that the presence of a human should make him jumpy but Minhyuk is not sure of anything anymore. The boundaries, the balance of power between the human and vampire world, it all seems to be shifting today and he fervently wishes to go and speak to Changkyun’s ‘informant’ and then go home.

‘Ok,’ he uncrosses his arms and steps closer to the door. ‘Deal. Sounds good to me.’

Ignoring his blatantly obvious impatience, Changkyun drags his finger down Kihyun’s shoulder. ‘I’ll be back in a minute, baby.’

He turns to Minhyuk with a grin, a wolfish grin that tells Minhyuk he is enjoying this night of scheming.

‘Let’s go and find Sanha.’

‘Sanha?’ Minhyuk repeats hesitantly. ‘I’ve heard the name before.’

And then he remembers and groans in embarrassment.

Sanha.

Changkyun’s cousin. The tall, lanky kid from a month ago who bought him a drink and whom Minhyuk abandoned, without ever returning the favour.

Brilliant.

Not only will Sanha probably detest him because of Minhyuk’s absolute lack of manners, he will also hate him because Minhyuk had fucked Sanha’s good friend – twice - and had been the cause for Dongmin’s break-up.

‘Anything wrong?’

He gulps down. ‘No. Everything is fine.’

Changkyun winks at Kihyun. ‘We’ll go and I will find Sanha and sort this out. I know he is here; I saw him earlier.’

‘Please, do.’

By now, Kihyun has regained his composure again. He pierces Minhyuk with a level stare, as if contemplating something.

Minhyuk stares back, unblinking – for once he has an advantage as a vampire –and eventually Kihyun’s sharp features widen in a delicate hint of a smile.

‘Good luck, Minhyuk. I hope everything works out for you. Should you want to repeat our,’ his eyebrows arch a little higher, ‘encounter – let us know.’

Being grateful for being undead – and thus unable to blush – Minhyuk does his best to stare back in what he hopes is a cool and composed manner.

‘I might, Mr Yoo.’

Kihyun’s eyes crinkle in a real, wide smile. ‘Please, call me Kihyun.’

Minhyuk hesitantly smiles back. ‘Alright, Kihyun. I will let you know.’

He spins on his heel and marches out of the room behind Changkyun, trying to hide how his knees are trembling.

He can feel Kihyun’s eyes on his back.

The carpet muffles their footsteps as they walk in silence. Minhyuk’s stomach is churning unpleasantly.

Why does it need to be Sanha? Why that kid? Out of hundreds of others who frequent Mephisto, it has to be the one and only person who has witnessed his embarrassing behaviour, his salivating over Dongmin, his rudeness?

He drags his feet after Changkyun, hoping against all odds that Sanha has left already.

Once downstairs, they weave their way through the dance floor, heading for the bar.

‘It’s quite early,’ remarks Changkyun. ‘He wouldn’t have found anybody yet. I bet he is having a drink.’

Minhyuk’s stomach twists.

Changkyun, with some magic insight that annoys Minhyuk enormously, turns to him and grins. ‘What’s the problem?’

Minhyuk looks away. ‘Nothing.’

‘You look like this is the last thing on Earth you want to do. But it was _your_ plan – what’s wrong?’

Minhyuk scratches his head and huffs. ‘Take a pick I guess. I have slept with Dongmin – he is Sanha’s friend. He saw me taking him upstairs. And to make it worse,’ he groans, ‘that night when I met Dongmin I was talking to Sanha before. He bought me a drink, he seemed really nice. But when I saw Dongmin, I just left Sanha standing – literally – and went to chase after Min. He will think I’m a total asshole.’

‘Well,’ Changkyun cocks his head, ‘I guess next time you think before you fuck, man. But I can't help you with that - that one’s on you. Oh, here he is.’

In front of them sitting on a bar stool, Sanha turns immediately at the sound of Changkyun’s deep voice.

His face grows cautious. ‘Oh. Hi, Changkyun.’

‘Hi,’ grins Changkyun. He gestures at Minhyuk.

‘Minhyuk would like to ask you a favour.’

Sanha’s gaze rests on Minhyuk and his face hardens.

‘You fucked Dongmin that night. That night we met.’

Minhyuk feels uncomfortably hot, even if he knows vampires are unable to feel hot or cold. ‘I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for just leaving you… I still owe you a drink.’

‘Yeah, the drink is really the main problem here,’ scoffs Sanha sarcastically. ‘Such a minor detail aside like you fucking my friend-‘

‘This is all really fascinating guys,’ Changkyun’s drawl near his ear almost makes Minhyuk jump, ‘but I need to go back.’

He turns to Sanha, a wolfish grin on his face. ‘Kiddo, I have a proposition to make. Kihyun and I are coming for lunch on Sunday; I’m sure your mum told you. If you help Minhyuk here with a certain little matter,’ he drops his voice, ‘I promise that when your mum asks, I will swear on my life that I haven’t seen you here for the last month.’

For a moment, Sanha looks as if he was contemplating murdering Changkyun and asking Minhyuk to help him to hide the body but after an agonising moment, he turns to Minhyuk, rolls his eyes and sighs. ‘Fine. What do you want?’

……………………….

Minhyuk is leaning against the wall of a dilapidated townhouse, watching the grey sky above. He has checked the address Sanha gave him the day before and he has compared it to the location on his phone at least three times. There is no doubt, this is the right place. He is grateful for the miserable weather; this way he was able to begin his watch in the afternoon and didn’t have to wait to be able to surprise Bin at night.

The passers-by give him a wide berth, despite him trying his best to be inconspicuous, pulling his hood down to shield his face and huddling as close to the wall as he can.

The time crawls slowly. Even with plenty of practice in combatting every shade of boredom possible, Minhyuk is getting twitchy. He has no ide when Bin might be getting home; he has no idea where he works.

Cursing under his breath, he shifts his weight from one foot to another, trying to act human. Had he paid more attention to Bin last year, he wouldn’t be here now, standing around in what looks like a beginning of a drizzle, bored out of his skull.

When the light breeze finally brings with it the faintest whiff of Bin’s blood, he barely supresses the urge to run in that direction. Instead, he forces himself to stay rooted on the spot.

Bin is walking down the street, a gym bag slung across his chest. Minhyuk tenses his muscles as he approaches, ready to jump.

Just as Bin walks past him, his eyes widen in horror. Minhyuk freezes too, for a split of a second - and Bin bolts.

Minhyuk charges after him. Bin might be fast but his speed is no match for a vampire. He yanks at the strap of Bin’s bag and the impact sends them both sprawling to the ground. Not wasting a second, Minhyuk pins Bin underneath him and covers his mouth.

‘Listen to me,’ he hisses in Bin’s face. ‘I’m not here to kill you, bite you or hurt you in any way. I’m here to talk.’

Bin is straining to get free but Minhyuk’s hand is clasped firmly over his mouth, his body trapping him underneath.

‘I will uncover your mouth now and we will get up,’ he whispers into Bin’s ear. ‘Slowly. If you try anything, if you start screaming, I will kill you. Understand?’

Eyes wide with terror, Bin nods. When Minhyuk pulls his hand away, Bin looks pale but gets off the ground without any mishap.

Not trusting for the rest of the negotiation going equally smoothly, Minhyuk doesn’t let go off Bin’s wrist. ‘I need to talk to you.’

Bin is not looking at him, trying to wrench his arm free. ‘I don’t think we have anything to talk about!’

Minhyuk doesn’t relinquish his hold. ‘I think you should get back together with Dongmin.’

Bin seems so shocked that he doesn’t even try to run anymore and simply stares at Minhyuk, mouth agape. 

‘Fuck you! You have the… the audacity to fuck him and now you’re offering me the leftovers? What’s your problem? Have you got bored of him now? The thrill has worn off after a year, right?’

He manages to yank his hand away from Minhyuk’s grip. ‘So? What is it? Have you finally broken up with him? Have you?’

‘No, it’s not that,’ Minhyuk shakes his head quietly. ‘We were never really together. I only met him’ – best to substitute the word fuck with meet, he thinks bitterly - ‘twice. That time, a year ago,’ he gulps uneasily, ‘and recenly.’

He pauses and rubs his forehead, feeling weary to the bone. ‘Dongmin doesn’t love me. He never did. He loves you.’

Bin seems he has utterly forgotten about trying to flee.

‘Sure,’ he almost spit into Minhyuk’s face. ‘He loves me, yeah. And proves it by going around and getting screwed by any random vampire, left, right and centre. I’m not stupid. People talk.’

Minhyuk reaches and grips Bin’s hand again. ‘Don’t say that. People talk a lot of shit.’

He takes a deep breath. ‘I was the only vampire he ever slept with. And I’m really sorry about that, I really am. It was my fault.’

Bin tries to yank his hand out of Minhyuk’s grip, to no avail.

Minhyuk sighs, not letting go. ‘Hey, listen, please. Dongmin is really unhappy. Yes, he meets with vampires and gets bitten because it’s like a drug that helps him forget – but trust me, he wants you back. He misses you.’

‘And how do you know that?’ Bin’s tone, although derisive, is losing its bravado.

‘Because he told me that his biggest regret was that you two broke up. And he blames himself for that.’

‘Well, he should,’ grumbles Bin but the hostile edge in his voice is gone.

‘Please,’ Minhyuk takes a deep breath. ‘Give him a chance. I can't watch him destroying himself.’

‘Why do you even care?’

Minhyuk gulps and looks at his shoes. Doesn’t dare to look Bin in the eye.

‘Because I love him.’

Bin’s nostrils flare. ‘How do you even dare, you fucking sucker… What do you know about love?’

Minhyuk puts his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Don’t, ok? Fine, I might not know much about love – but if someone calls out _your_ name while still having _my_ dick in them – I know it’s time for me to leave.’

The words take the wind out of Bin’s sails and he stands there, panting angrily.

‘I could kill you right now, you know that?’

Minhyuk sighs. ‘You know what? I wouldn’t even mind. I’m tired.’

He slumps down on the pavement, leaning against the wall. ‘Go on, do it! I’m tired and fucking lonely and… jealous because Dongmin loves you and not me and never will… Just kill me, ok? Silver dagger is the best. Quick.’

His eyes fill with tired tears. ‘But after you’re done, go and talk to Dongmin. Please.’

‘I don’t have a silver dagger, sucker.’

There is the subtlest of changes in Bin’s tone as he sits down next to Minhyuk.

‘Just for the record, I still hate you.’

‘I screwed your boyfriend, you have every right to be pissed with me.’

‘Mention it one more time and I might start looking for that dagger,’ mutters Bin darkly but there is no more real threat in his tone.

Minhyuk sits without moving, head buried in his hands. He feels at the end of his wits, no energy left to argue his point, to convince Bin to try to win Dongmin back.

All is lost.

For a while they say in silence. The air around them feels empty; there is no hope left – Minhyuk feels the void and his head hangs low.

He failed.

He did try – oh, he did – but it is no use.

A tear trickles down his cheek and Minhyuk hastily wipes it away.

Next to him, Bin snorts. ‘What are you crying for?’

Minhyuk pulls away from Bin, the cocktail of embarrassment and despair sitting heavily in his stomach.

‘It’s all my fault,’ he whispers. ‘All of this.’

Bin throws him an angry look. ‘Oh, shut up and stop defending him! Did you two fuck? Yes, you did! Did he cheat on me? Yes, he did! Why is it so difficult to see that what he did was… full of shit?’

Minhyuk frowns. ‘Maybe it _was_ shitty but you just threw everything you had together – you just threw it away. You threw _him_ away without a second glance.’

‘That’s not true!’ Bin’s face reddens. ‘I wanted to talk to him! I messaged him maybe two months after we split up. But when I came over…. He opened the door and… he had bite marks on his neck. Fresh ones. I figured you two got together and…’

‘We were never together,’ Minhyuk interrupts him. ‘Never. I don’t think he was with anybody at all.’

Bin rolls his eyes. ‘Yeah, sure. And the feeding marks were just a figment of my imagination.’

Minhyuk groans. ‘Can you listen for one minute? I can explain.’

‘What is there to fucking explain?’

‘Do you go out sometimes? You know, Friday night, drinks, clubbing?’

‘What? What does it have to do with anything?’

Minhyuk draws a shuddery breath. ‘I’m a member of a club where people go if they… If they like being bitten.’

‘Christ.’ Bin is looking at him, horror-stricken. Horror-stricken and disgusted.

‘It’s all consensual,’ Minhyuk reassures him hastily. ‘There is security – it’s all thought through to keep everyone safe - mostly it’s just… good fun. People - the humans, I mean – say it’s like getting high. Or getting drunk really fast.’

Subconsciously, he repeats Wonho’s words and watches Bin who look as if he was about to faint.

‘Vampires go there for obvious reasons,’ he gulps uneasily, ‘but it has been really popular, I’ve heard, among you, guys. Dongmin’s friend Sanha introduced him to it after… After you two broke up. I think Sanha must have been a member before. Because Dongmin mentioned his name once, before we, you know…’

He trails off, awfully conscious of Bin’s pained face.

‘Anyway,’ he sighs. ‘The bite marks must have been that, him being bitten at the club. I don’t think he has been with anyone – at least that’s what people there say – nobody at all, until we met a month ago.’

He stops, aware that he is now treading on thin ice.

Bin’s eyes are huge. ‘Is it true?’

Minhyuk only shrugs helplessly and Bin seems to have gotten the message. He buries his head in his hands. ‘And I thought… Oh my god.’

The silence drags on, slowly, painfully.

‘I want you to bite me.’ Bin mumbles into his hands.

Minhyuk’s head spins. ‘What?’

Bin looks up. ‘I want to know what it feels like.’

‘Why?’

‘Because,’ Bin pierces him with a hateful stare, ‘if all you’re saying is true - what if he didn’t know what he was doing after you bit him? I want to know exactly how much of what happened was _your_ fault.’

‘Please, no, I-.’ Minhyuk feels awful. He doesn’t want to bite Bin, he doesn’t want to do it at all – but he can see where Bin is coming from.

‘Do you want me to talk to him or not?’

The contempt in Bin’s voice is so venomous, Minhyuk swallows down any retort he had at the ready.

‘Ok,’ he sighs heavily. ‘I’ll do it.’

With his eyes, Minhyuk motions towards an archway opening into an inner courtyard of a block of flats. ‘That your place? I'm not doing it in the middle of the street.’

‘Yeah,’ Bin’s voice is sullen, like he is blaming Minhyuk for what they are going to do, like he hates Minhyuk for it – or himself. ‘Let’s go.’

In the dark shadows of the archway, Bin leans against the wall. ‘Go on then. Bite me.’

Minhyuk eyes him uneasily. ‘Maybe we should go to your place. Someone might come running if you scream.’

‘Does… Does it hurt that much?’ Bin suddenly looks less sure about the idea and Minhyuk almost feels sorry for him.

‘Of course it does, you moron,’ he sighs softly, rolling his eyes. ‘The beginning always hurts.’

Bin’s face hardens. ‘Fine. Let’s do it at my place then.’

Minhyuk follows without a word, eyes on Bin’s back. They climb three flights of stairs in silence.

In front of a battered door on the top floor, Bin sticks the key into the lock and pauses. The look he gives Minhyuk chills him to the core, despite his inability to feel the cold.

‘Just to make it clear. I don’t like you, sucker; I’m only doing this for Min. If you try anything funny, I’ll do my best to kill you. There is a nice silver candlestick in my living room, a family heirloom – I will be ready to use it if I need to. Understood?’

‘Understood. I don’t like you either.’

He longs to add that he is doing it for Dongmin too but refrains at the very last second. This is not the time for petty fights.

Bin’s place is cramped. The one room serves both as the living room and the kitchen, with Bin’s textbooks strewn all over a low table and a worn sofa. There is a curtain, half-open now, separating a little alcove that must be his bedroom, from the main space. The sight of the spartan, narrow bed behind the cheap swathes of fabric makes Minhyuk so sad, he needs to turn away and blink a couple of time to fight the tears.

‘So. How do you want to do it?’

Bin’s tone is so cold, so business-like, that Minhyuk shudders.

‘I… I’m not sure. You should pick a spot where it wouldn’t hurt you so much, I guess.’

‘I want it the same way you did it with Min.’

No,’ Minhyuk staggers backwards in panic. ‘No.’

‘What did you do to him? Were you two already fucking while you did it?’

Minhyuk reels with anger. ‘That’s none of your business! Let’s cut the crap, ok? Venom is venom, wherever you bite. We don’t need to copy every single movement for you to get the gist of it! Let me just bite you and get this done, ok? Or if you have changed your mind, tell me – I’ll go!’

‘Fine,’ hisses Bin through gritted teeth. ‘Bite me. Wherever you want.’

‘Fine,’ Minhyuk hisses back. ‘Take off your hoodie.’

‘What?’

‘Do you want blood on it?’

‘Oh,’ Bin gapes for a second, then peels it off without a word. He is wearing a white t-shirt underneath.

‘That one too. I don’t want to be listening to your moaning afterwards about how I’ve ruined your clothes,’ Minhyuk jabs at his chest and Bin follows the order, undressing quickly. His hands are shaking, as if he’s only realised what he has agreed to, and his chest is heaving, panicky breaths echoing in the small room. Minhyuk can smell his sweat, the fear. He knows it’s the human body reacting to a predator this close – and even through the misty veil of anger he feels a little ashamed.

‘I’m not gonna hurt you,’ he whispers softly. ‘I promise. I mean, the bite will be painful but that’s all. I will not hurt you.’

For every step Minhyuk takes, Bin takes a step back until his back hits the door. His eyes are so huge and his breathing so fast that Minhyuk almost tells him to step aside so he can leave.

‘Shh,’ Minhyuk shakes his head. ‘Stop panicking. I want to show you where I’m going to bite – and you will tell me if you would prefer somewhere else.’

He softly touches the juncture between Bin’s shoulder and neck. ‘Here. It’s called the trapezium muscle. It shouldn’t hurt too much there.’

Bin nods mutely and Minhyuk watches him for a bit, a certain dark corner of his mind enjoying the moment, as if it was a game of cat and mouse.

‘And we will kiss before I bite you.’

‘What?’

‘You wanted the exact same experience, right?’ he smirks. ‘Well, it won’t be the same but we can make it as close as it gets.’

To Minhyuk’s immense annoyance, Bin’s face flushes scarlet but he doesn’t object anymore, simply nods. ‘Fine. Kiss me. Show me what you have, sucker.’

Bracing himself for a split of a second, Minhyuk leans forward.

Kissing Bin feels odd. The scent is wrong; the shape of his lips is different. But Bin’s blood has a wonderful, fresh aroma to it – one that Minhyuk can vividly recall from that one encounter a year ago – and the bloodlust in him rises slowly, a gentle swell, sweet and pulling, almost making Minhyuk to forget why he is here.

Being detached and focused on his task is a little harder than he thought but he keeps his eyes closed avoiding looking into Bin’s at all costs. He doesn’t want to charm the boy; he needs to prove to himself that what happened twelve months ago was a simple act of lust on both sides, stupid and selfish – but consensual nevertheless.

‘Are you going to bite me now?’ Bin pulls away, panting into his ear.

‘Shh,’ he slides his palms down Bin’s sides. ‘Soon.’

He presses Bin’s body against the door, slowly, unhurriedly. Feeling his warmth as he pushes against him, chest to chest, hips against hips.

Bin squirms. ‘Just… Just bite me. Just fucking… bite… Bite me.’

It’s there; he can feel it. Bin’s fear. The sudden swell of it clouds his brain; makes his dick go hard.

He tries to play fair; he has to. ‘I can stop if you want me to. Do you want me to stop?’

‘N- No. Do it.’

‘Are you sure?’

Suddenly, Minhyuk is not so certain about anything anymore. Is he taking advantage of Bin? Of his loneliness? His vulnerability?

He pulls back, breathing hard. ‘I need you to tell me exactly what you want. I need to hear it. Now. I want to be sure that you know what you’re doing.’

For a long, agonising moment, Bin doesn’t answer. Minhyuk watches his face, the softness around his swollen mouth, the quivering eyelashes. But when Bin finally opens his eyes, they are like two flat, cold stones, not a shred of warmth in them left.

‘You know what, sucker? I have changed my mind. I want you to bite me exactly the way you bit Min. Bite after bite.’

Something in Minhyuk hardens. Sours.

‘Fine,’ he whispers, gritting his teeth. ‘If that’s what you want.’

He scoops Bin up in his arms, not bothering to move at human speed anymore.

When the boy’s back hits the bed, Bin cries out but Minhyuk ignores it and yanks down his jeans. Despite Bin straining under him, Minhyuk pins him down easily.

‘Don’t worry, moron,’ he hisses into Bin’s ear. ‘I’m not going to fuck you so stop squirming. I only want to do what you asked me to.’

As if resigning himself to his fate, Bin stills under him and Minhyuk pulls back. He watches Bin’s eyes brimming with tears, his whole body shaking – a fight-or-flight response triggered by Minhyuk’s closeness – but he also knows that’s not all there is to it.

‘Are you sure?’ he frowns and lets go of Bin’s arms. ‘Are you really sure you want to do this?’

Bin wipes his eyes. The tears disappear, but not the cold hatred. ‘I’ve told you I want to see exactly how much of it was your fault,’ he spits out, teeth chattering. ‘Just fucking do it.’

Minhyuk shrugs. ‘Ok.’

He lowers himself on top of Bin and a small part of him enjoys the blind panic that flashes across the boy’s features before Bin squeezes his eyes shut and turns his face away.

‘Don’t worry,’ he smirks. ‘I’m not going to kiss you anymore. Unless you want me to.’

Trapped underneath him, Bin whimpers and a wave of shame rolls over Minhyuk. What exactly is he doing? Is this going to help anyone?

‘Sorry,’ he whispers hastily. ‘I guess I just-‘

He slides lower, mouth watering as he ghosts over the bare skin of Bin’s chest where his heartbeat is so loud it almost hurts Minhyuk’s ears.

When he pushes Bin’s legs apart and strokes the inside of his thigh, Minhyuk can hear him crying but the hunger is taking over now, Bin’s pulse ringing loud, like bells tolling, and he bites down.

A year ago, Dongmin screamed. Bin merely sobs out, body jerking under Minhyuk’s hands.

The crimson mist is different this time, harder to see through. This is Bin’s blood but he can taste Dongmin in it, as if their shared past was forever woven into the very fabric of Bin’s being, and it makes him ravenous and angry at the same time.

He drinks, furious, hungry gulps that are not meant for show anymore.

He wants to drain.

After a minute, despite the red fog in his head, he forces himself to slow down and resurface.

Bin has stopped crying by now. Instead, his fingers are tangled in Minhyuk’s hair and he moans, hips straining to move in Minhyuk’s grip.

The urge to laugh is strong. He never thought it would be so easy; that the answer would be right there in front of his eyes.

_Oh, Binnie. So you thought yourself morally above Min, just because he was weak once? Let’s see then if you can do better than him._

Letting go of Bin’s leg, Minhyuk crawls back up. His lips leave a bloody trail over Bin’s stomach and his chest.

When he sinks his fangs into Bin’s neck, the only response he gets is Bin’s moan and his hips pressing into Minhyuk’s.

This time, he is careful not to give in to hunger. If he drinks too much, the boy will not survive. Instead, he keeps his fangs sunk in as long as he can, licking away the blood that wells up with every pulse but not sucking at the wound.

By now, he feels faint from the effort not to drink, his whole body shaking like a leaf.

When Bin pulls his head off his neck, Minhyuk doesn’t protest, almost grateful for the decision being taken out of his hands.

But Bin doesn’t shove him away like Minhyuk expects.

Bin kisses him.

Minhyuk doesn’t have the strength to pull back when Bin licks into his mouth, still smeared with own blood – hunger, not softness - and something tells him that Bin hasn’t been kissing anyone for the last twelve months.

Gently, he captures Bin upper lip with his teeth, something he knows he likes. It feels odd copying Dongmin’s movements, it’s almost as if was slipping into his skin. He doesn’t want to leave the moment; in his head, he wants to live in Dongmin’s skin…

Underneath him, Bin ruts against him, the hardness obvious against Minhyuk’s thigh.

The temptation to abandon his plan is there; to forget what he came here for and simply go with flow; he knows Bin would be pliant now, willing to do anything – but something in Minhyuk bristles at the thought of it.

He lets go of Bin’s lips and licks over the fresh bite marks on his neck for the last time, making sure the bleeding has stopped.

Then he flips Bin over onto his stomach.

The sudden movement knocks Bin’s breath out of him but Minhyuk doesn’t give him a chance to recover and, pulling his boxers down a little, he bites again, into the softness where Bin’s lower back gives way to the swell of his ass.

Bin cries out loud this time, his whole body jerking, fingernails scratching at the sheets next to his head.

‘How many,’ he chokes out, ‘how many more?’

Minhyuk pauses. He crawls up, trailing kisses along Bin’s spine.

‘One more,’ he whispers into Bin’s ear. ‘One last bite. If you still want to.’

Trapped under his weight, Bin pants into the crook of his elbow and presses his ass against Minhyuk’s hips.

‘What do you want to do?’

Minhyuk slides his arms under Bin’s armpits and grabs his shoulders from below, pressing into him. ‘What do you want me to do?’

Bin arches, fingers clawing into the mattress. ‘Bite me… Fuck, just… bite me!’

Minhyuk doesn’t hold back this time. He sinks his fangs between Bin’s shoulder blades, deep, barely registering Bin’s cry, his body spasming underneath him. Red mist fogs up his mind as he comes, mere seconds after Bin.

For a moment, neither of them moves. Minhyuk allows himself to ride the crimson wave of high for a bit longer. He presses his face against the sweaty skin of Bin’s back, idly licking at the pinpricks that are still seeping a thin streak of blood.

‘Get off me!’

Underneath, Bin is straining, desperately trying to dislodge him. Minhyuk barely has time to lick at the wound for the last time when Bin shoves him aside.

‘Get off me! I said get off me!’

‘I only wanted to make it stop bleeding sooner,’ he mumbles, hurt.

Bin doesn’t pay him any attention. He curls up in a ball and starts weeping.

‘Fuck! You felt like him; you were kissing like him! I closed my eyes and… it felt like Dongmin touching me! I… I…’

His whole body is shaking with sobs.

Minhyuk burns with shame. Bin might think this some dark magic – but Minhyuk knows this is simply him, having spent night after night hidden in the branches of the old oak tree in front of Bin and Dongmin’s bedroom, watching their every move, drinking in every kiss, every sigh, every caress.

He can't tell Bin any of this; these are the darkest memories he hates and treasures at the same time, unable to forget, no matter what.

‘It’s ok,’ his hand hovers over Bin’s curled up, shaking frame.

‘I don’t know what it was? I nearly… Oh my god, I nearly…’ Bin sobs into the pillow.

Minhyuk can feel his shame, his humiliation.

‘But you didn’t, right?’ he summons the courage to stroke his back and is relieved that Bin doesn’t pull away. ‘You didn’t.’

‘How?’

Bin springs up so fast he could almost pass for a vampire.

‘I don’t understand,’ he starts pacing up and down the room, the hoarse whisper desperate and angry. ‘What did you do? What did you do to me? What was _that_?’

The abyss is right under Minhyuk’s feet and he knows if he makes one more step he will fall.

‘What did you do?’ Bin’s face is streaked with tears. ‘Why did it feel like it was Min? What did you… do?’

Minhyuk knows the last step when he sees it.

He takes it anyway. ‘I’m sorry. I did it on purpose.’

Bin stops dead. ‘What?’

‘I did everything like Dongmin used to do.’

‘What?’

‘I used to watch you both.’

It takes a second but Minhyuk can see the disgust. The anguish.

‘You are sick.’ Bin’s voice is barely a whisper.

‘I’m so sorry.’

The freefall is almost liberating.

Bin sways, legs unsteady, and leans against the wall. ‘You make me sick.’

‘I’m sorry, Bin.’ He expects a relief after the impact but none comes. ‘I’m really, really sorry.’

In vain, he tries to touch Bin’s hand but Bin jerks away furiously. ‘Don’t touch me, you are disgusting!’

The anger hits him like a sledgehammer.

‘And you? Look at you?’ he shouts. ‘Fine, I’m a stalker! But that does not make you a saint! How far were you from letting me to fuck you tonight? Had I tried, had I really tried, would you have said no?’

Bin’s red face tells him he has hit the bull’s eye.

‘So, tell me,’ Minhyuk leans closer, ‘tell me, Mr Moral-High-Ground, why did you call him a slut?’

Bin freezes. ‘How do you know?’

‘Because he told me. We met a month ago.’

‘Ah. He told you.’

The colour of Bin’s voice changes. Turns darker, nastier. ‘He told you - just like that.’

‘Yes, he told me.’

‘And you want to tell me that you just met and had a casual conversation like that – without you trying anything.’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘So you… are you saying you fucked him?’

‘Maybe he fucked me – how is it any of your business? You left him!’

‘Shut up, sucker! Shut up and tell me if you fucked him?’

‘I can't shut up and tell you – that doesn’t make sense,’ smiles Minhyuk prettily and it’s only a matter of seconds, he knows, until Bin charges like a bull at him – but the anger, after seeing Bin’s outraged face, gets better of him again.

‘Do you want to know if I fucked him? Yes, I did!’ his voice reverberates in the cramped room. ‘And you know what? He came three times that night! And told me I was the best fuck he has ever had in his life! So shut up and stop twisting everything – as if I forced him into it and he didn’t enjoy it at least a little bit! We fucked and it’s none of your business because you left him a fucking year ago!’

Bin deflates in front of his eyes, like a punctured balloon. With his back against the wall, he slides down, as if his legs gave way.

Minhyuk watches his body curling up in a ball, head pressed against his knees.

‘Please, leave,’ whispers Bin.

‘I’m… I’m so sorry,’ Minhyuk crouches next to him. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

‘Leave,’ Bin’s voice is thick with tears but Minhyuk sits down on the floor next to him.

‘Please,’ he whispers. ‘I don’t care about what you think of me but… don’t punish Dongmin for what I did. I know he wasn’t blameless in what happened last year but...’

‘I was so angry with him,’ Bin mumbles, barely registering Minhyuk’s words. ‘I thought we were happy – and then he just went and… slept with you and…’

Tears are starting to roll down Bin’s cheeks. ‘But I missed him. I missed him so much. And then I thought – what if I was just… a little boring, you know? We had been together for almost three years, I was his first love and he was mine… ‘

He draws in a shuddery breath and wipes his tears. ‘We were never, you know, awfully romantic. Really good friends at first and then… simply more, after a while. And I thought maybe you came and swept him off his feet – being a vampire and all that –’

Minhyuk’s heart aches. ‘It was a mistake. I… I never meant anything to him,’ he whispers. ‘I want you to know that. He told me, right… right after he…’

A big lump forms in Minhyuk’s throat. ‘I begged him to stay. I asked him when could I see him again. He… He said it was the best night of his life but he needed to go back… back to his life. That both of us needed to go back to our lives. And that he was really sorry.’

‘Did he really say that?’

There are still tears stuck to Bin’s eyelashes but also a tiny glimmer of hope in his eyes.

‘You know, that night… I came too early. He opened the door - and I saw the marks. The bites. They were peeking from under his tank top, some of them so fresh they were barely scabbed. I got really angry, said all those really nasty things and left. But I didn’t know, I swear. I genuinely thought he was with you. I thought he had lied to me from the very beginning. But… But he wasn’t, right? He wasn’t lying?’

‘No,’ Minhyuk hangs his head. ‘He wasn’t lying. We were never together. He always loved you. Only you. I never stood a chance. Please, come and talk to him.’

Next to him, Bin starts crying silently again, tears dripping on his knees. Minhyuk shuffles closer, and wraps his arms around Bin’s shoulders. He almost expects to be shoved away but after a while, Bin wipes his eyes and sniffs.

‘Where do you want me to go?’

…………………

Bin tugs tensely at his collar, eyeing himself in the mirror.

‘This is a stupid idea. What if he’s not even there?’

Minhyuk, sprawled on Bin’s sofa, looks up from his phone. ‘I have messaged Sanha. He is there. And we’d better get going.’

‘What if he’s left by the time we get there?’

‘Then we go again next week.’

‘How will I even get in when I am not a member?’

Minhyuk stops and runs a weary hand through his hair. ‘Man, calm down. I’ve told you. Humans don’t need to be members; they just need to get pass the bouncers. And because you are coming as my plus one, you don’t even need to worry about that.’

‘If I wasn’t with you, would I get pass the bouncers?’

Minhyuk can see Bin is nervous so he doesn’t roll his eyes at him.

‘Yes, you would definitely get past the bouncers,’ he explains patiently. ‘For fuck’s sake, you are acting as if you’ve never been to a club before.’

‘Not one like this,’ pouts Bin and nervously adjusts his collar.

Minhyuk watches him undoing another button on his shirt and frowns. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m nervous. I always start sweating really badly when I’m nervous.’ Bin looks down at his half-exposed chest. ‘What?’

‘Nothing,’ smirks Minhyuk.

‘Should I button it up?’

‘Nah,’ laughs Minhyuk, feeling the tension leaving him slowly. ‘Leave it. If you weren’t with me, it would improve your chances to get in enormously.’

‘You mean the bouncers.’

‘Yes, the bouncers.’

……………………….

The taxi pulls at the curb in front of Mephisto and Minhyuk pats Bin’s knee. ‘Let’s go.’

Bin starts scratching his neck, not making a move; Minhyuk can hear the loud thumping of his heart.

‘Stop that,’ he pulls Bin’s hand away. ‘You look like a perfect, hot bait; it’s gonna be fine.’

‘Easy for you to say. I’m gonna be entering a vampire den.’

‘Just smile and look cute.’

‘How? I’m taller than you. I could lift you up, sucker.’

‘Moron,’ mumbles Minhyuk under his breath. ‘I could break your bones, if I wanted to.’

‘You have, actually.’

Minhyuk’s face heats up. ‘Oh, I forgot about that. I have, haven’t I? I’m sorry.’

‘Apology one year late, but accepted.’

Minhyuk smiles to himself, feeling lighter. ‘Thank you. Now shut up and start smiling. You look like you want to murder someone. Even my membership is not gonna help if the security think you are looking for trouble.’

‘Better?’

Minhyuk surveys the slightly artificial smile plastered on Bin’s face. ‘It’ll do.’

He wraps his arm around Bin’s waist. ‘Come on, my little human.’

‘Shut up,’ Bin elbows him in the ribs but there is no real malice in it; he even inches closer when Minhyuk runs a reassuring hand down his back to soothe his frantic breathing.

They bypass the queue behind the thick velvet ropes and Minhyuk flashes his membership card at the door.

The guard looks Bin up and down, eyes briefly lingering on the bite marks peeking from underneath his collar, gives them a cursory pat and waves them through.

Inside the lobby, Bin exhales. ‘Phew, that was easier than I thought. And now comes the scary bit.’

Minhyuk feels Bin legs trembling and tightens his grip on his waist.

‘You will be fine. Just flaunt that bitten neck and stick close to me until we find him. Other vamps will think you are mine.’

‘Marvellous,’ huffs Bin but doesn’t pull away, clearly terrified.

They are standing on the edge of the dance floor, the heavy bass beat so loud, Minhyuk can barely hear his own thoughts. Next to him, Bin watches the mass of bodies in front of him, clutching to Minhyuk for dear life.

‘Remind me why I couldn’t go to Min’s place to talk to him?’ he hisses into Minhyuk’s ear.

‘Because I didn’t want to go behind his back and tell you where he lives.’

‘Wow. And you stalking me and finding out where I live was ok?’

Some of the tension that radiates off Bin seeps into Minhyuk and he levels Bin with a hard stare. ‘I like Min. I don’t like you so, yes, it felt ok.’

‘Fucking marvellous,’ Bin rolls his eyes and for a moment it looks like he might want to detach himself from Minhyuk’s grip but then a tall, rather intimidating vampire brushes past them and smiles at Minhyuk.

‘Hi. Would you guys like to share?’

He winks at Bin, eyes lingering on his neck. ‘What do you think, gorgeous?’

Minhyuk can smell Bin’s terror and his hold on Bin’s waist tightens. He feels out of his depth too but forces himself to smile back confidently. ‘Uh, no, thanks.’

The older vampire shrugs his shoulders briefly, ‘No problem. Maybe another time.’

He winks at Bin one more time and disappears amongst the crowd.

‘I feel sick,’ whispers Bin.

‘Don’t be melodramatic,’ Minhyuk whispers back. ‘Right now, I’m plastered all over you and you don’t feel sick at all.’

‘But… But I know you are not going to hurt me,’ stammers Bin. ‘It’s different.’

Despite everything, Minhyuk feels warmth flooding his chest. ‘I feel honoured. But I could be hungry too. What if I’m secretly planning to have a sip?’

He noses at Bin’s neck but, to his surprise, Bin merely giggles and pushes him away. ‘I know you hate me so stop pretending.’

‘I can feed from people I hate; I don’t have a problem with that,’ Minhyuk leans closer again, enjoying the way Bin’s heartbeat speeds up.

‘Would you really do that?’

There are tiny beads of sweat pearling on Bin’s forehead and Minhyuk suddenly feels ashamed.

‘No,’ he gently squeezes Bin’s side. ‘Not to you.’

‘Thanks,’ Bin lets out a shuddery breath, all bravado gone.

‘Do you want something to drink?’ Minhyuk eyes the bar. ‘We might be here for a while.’

Bin shakes his head. ‘No. I want a clear head when I see him.’

‘Fair enough,’ Minhyuk shrugs. ‘Do you want to dance instead?’

‘Can you dance?’ Bin’s eyebrows arch high and Minhyuk feels a stab of annoyance.

‘I’m a great dancer,’ he huffs indignantly.

‘Really?’ Bin throws his head back in laughter. ‘Please don’t tell me that-‘

‘What are you doing here?’

Minhyuk and Bin spin around.

Dongmin stands rooted to the spot on the edge of the dance floor. His hair is dishevelled, falling into his eyes. The buttons on his shirt are undone, an half-empty whisky glass in his hand.

Minhyuk feels an icy hand on his chest, pressing. It hurts to see Dongmin – but for the first time in his life, instead of looking at Dongmin, he is watching someone else.

Bin’s fingers twitch – he almost reaches out for Dongmin – but he checks himself at the last moment.

‘I’ve been looking for you, Min.’

‘Why?’ Dongmin scoffs; there is something unbearably bitter in his voice. ‘Why have you been looking for me?’

Bin gulps. The silence that hangs between them like thick syrup, dense and suffocating.

‘I miss you, Min.’

‘Really?’

The sarcasm in Dongmin’s voice makes Minhyuk shrink inside.

Bin seems to be shrinking too. ‘I miss you,’ he repeats, voice quiet, miserable.

‘You miss this?’ Dongmin drains the glass and slams in on the table next to him. He points at the bite marks covering his chest. ‘Do you really want me back – like this?’

‘I don’t care about all that,’ Bin whispers quietly and Minhyuk’s non-existent heart goes out for him. ‘I just want you back, Min.’

‘I… I don’t know if I can do that.’

Bin steps closer, a hesitant attempt. ‘You don’t need to do anything, Min. Just let us go home.’

Dongmin’s eyes are flat, expressionless. ‘Yes… And then in two weeks’ time… or two months’ time, when we argue, you will call me a slut again?’

‘No,’ Bin’s voice is barely audible. ‘I’m so sorry, Min. You didn’t deserve that. I shouldn’t have said that.’

Dongmin shakes his head, eyes stubbornly on the floor. ‘I can't do this.’

‘Please. I miss you. I’m sorry about what I did. I shouldn’t have left you. That night when I came – I came to ask you if we could start over. But then I saw the bite marks and thought you were with Minhyuk and… and got angry and called you all those things-‘

Haltingly, Bin takes Dongmin’s hands. ‘I’m sorry. I should have given you a chance to explain. I’m sorry.’

Dongmin is still not looking at him but doesn’t pull away. ‘I’m sorry too. For cheating. I’m so sorry I hurt you, Binnie. I’m sorry. I love you.’

He sways forward, into Bin’s arms. ‘I love you. I love you, Binnie. I’m really, really sorry.’

Minhyuk can barely watch. The way Bin closes his eyes when he inhales the scent of Dongmin’s hair feels like a stab in his gut. The way Dongmin’s hands cradle the nape of Bin’s neck feels like a hot spike in his heart.

He turns away blindly, fighting his way through the middle of the dance floor, towards the bar.

…….………………..

‘Hey.’

A strong hand grabs Minhyuk’s wrist.

He spins around angrily and finds himself staring into Wonho’s eyes.

‘Hey,’ repeats Wonho calmly, not letting go off his hand. ‘I need to talk to you.’

He yanks his arm free with all his might and glares at the friendly face. At the calm composure, those plush, beautiful lips. All the irritating poise and softness, in such stark contrast with Minhyuk’s raw, bleeding, non-existent heart.

‘Not now.’

Wonho’s eyes flit towards the dance floor where Dongmin and Bin have not moved at all, holding onto each other like two men drowning.

‘I know this is probably not the right moment-‘

‘You bet it’s not!’

Wonho’s face grows serious. His look tells Minhyuk he knows.

Minhyuk feels naked, like someone has spilled all his secrets onto the sticky floor and now they are there, laid bare for everyone to see.

‘What do you know about this?’ he hisses into Wonho’s face. ‘Why the fuck do you need to meddle in it at all?’

Wonho smiles, not ruffled by Minhyuk’s outburst.

‘You forget I have been sleeping with Jinwoo and Myungjun for quite a while,’ he says softly. ‘We don’t just fuck; we talk too, you know. I know a lot about you.’

The calmness with which he says it, without an ounce of shame or hesitation, makes Minhyuk’s blood boil with anger for some reason.

And envy.

‘Leave me alone!’

Wonho doesn’t budge and Minhyuk gives up the struggle after a while. He doesn’t want to use his full power, he can’t. Not without causing a scene, not without hurting Wonho.

‘I think you need a drink,’ Wonho starts pulling him towards the bar and Minhyuk follows, glaring at the broad expanse of Wonho’s back.

Changkyun appears, as if summoned by a flick of a magic wand.

‘Gentlemen?’ he cocks his head, pointedly ignoring Minhyuk’s glare. The iron grip of Hoseok’s hand on his wrist.

Wonho smiles softly, not relinquishing his hold. ‘One glass from the citrusy batch for Minhyuk. The better one.’

‘Ooooh, someone is in for a treat.’ Changkyun grins at Minhyuk’s pouty expression and sets a glass in front of him.

‘Enjoy.’

‘Thank you,’ Minhyuk grips the glass with a sweaty hand.

‘And you?’ he arches his eyebrows at Wonho.

‘I’m working.’

‘Ah.’

For a moment, Minhyuk sips at his glass in awkward silence, then he frowns. ‘You wanted to talk to me?’

Wonho reddens. ‘Oh. Yes.’

He squirms a little on the bar stool. ‘I wanted to tell you that I’m leaving next month. I found a music studio – encredibly cheap – so I have paid the rent for the next six months.’

‘That’s amazing news,’ Minhyuk smiles.

Wonho throws him an odd look and carries on. ‘And an anonymous patron left a huge tip for me a couple of weeks ago.’

‘Oh.’

‘An obscenely huge one. One year’s worth of my salary here. Do you know anything about it?’

Completely thrown, Minhyuk can't find any words to answer.

Wonho smiles again, a smile that reaches his eyes this time. Makes them free.

‘Thank you for everything, Minhyuk. Part of me doesn’t want to except the charity-‘

‘It was not charity!’ Minhyuk cries. ‘I’m too selfish and too scared. I saw how you can turn people’s heads. I’ve only been with you once – but I felt it. I simply don’t want Jinwoo to fall for you. I feel lonely enough,’ he looks behind him towards Bin and Dongmin, ‘I don’t want to lose my brother on top of everything else. Consider the money a bribe.’

He peers at Wonho from under his lashes. ‘Do you despise me for that?’

Wonho laughs and pulls him into a hug. ‘I love you for that. Thank you.’

‘Well,’ Minhyuk laughs a little embarrassed. ‘Good luck, Wonho.’

‘Please, call me Hoseok.’

‘I want at least one song dedicated to me, Hoseok.’

Hoseok laughs and Minhyuk thinks, not for the first time, how beautiful his laugh is. ‘You will get it. I promise.’

…………………………..

‘You look like you could use some company.’

Minhyuk looks up from his third glass of blood.

Sanha is leaning against the bar, a soju bottle in his hand. ‘Or dinner.’

‘Me?’ Laughs Minhyuk bitterly. ‘The one who breaks up happy couples?’

‘And brings them back together,’ remarks Sanha with a giggle. ‘Dongmin and Bin have just left. Saw them outside waiting for a cab. I hope they will make it back to wherever they are going without, you know-‘

‘Can we not talk about them?’ whispers Minhyuk. The wound still feels too fresh, the scab has not started healing yet.

‘We don’t need to talk,’ Sanha shrugs lightly. ‘We can go to the den.’

Minhyuk frowns. ‘Are you sure?’

He doesn’t feel the emptiness yet, the Dongmin-shaped hole in his chest, but he knows it is there.

Yet to fill it with Sanha’s fresh, youthful presence seems somehow wrong.

As if reading his mind, Sanha laughs. ‘I liked you, you know. That night when we met. Didn’t know, of course, who you were – but I liked you.’

‘Liked? Past tense?’

‘Well,’ Sanha’s frown is thoughtful. ‘Not sure right now. Still like you I guess – even though you were quite an asshole to Dongmin. But you sort of redeemed yourself tonight.’

The Dongmin-shaped hole in Minhyuk’s chest is still there but he feels like a cool hand is soothing the burning sensation.

……………………….

The den is crowded, all sofas occupied, to the point where Minhyuk needs to peel his eyes off Sanha’s broad back to make sure he doesn’t trip over someone’s legs.

‘Ok. This is hopeless.’

In front of him, Sanha turns around with a sigh. ‘This is more crowded than a fish market at 4 o’clock in the morning.’

He watches Minhyuk thoughtfully, eyeing him up and down with an easy-going smile. ‘Do you want to come to my place?’

………………………….

The taxi ride to Sanha’s apartment is one of the weirdest experiences Minhyuk has ever had.

Sanha is chatting away, breathless and unperturbed, bouncing up and down with childish aplomb as he regales Minhyuk with anecdotes from campus, laughing in a squeaky, youthful voice at the antics of his friends, even if he has probably told the story hundred times before.

Minhyuk laughs with him.

He feels almost light-headed, the intoxicating feeling of laughing so hard your belly starts hurting and your eyes water.

Sanha’s little apartment is airy; spacious without feeling empty, the furniture a random collection of mismatched pieces that still manage to look quirky instead of messy.

Standing close to Sanha, inhaling his scent, the thirst comes back with a powerful kick. He felt his fangs descending, the soft tendrils of the aroma enveloping him like cotton wool. The pull is sweet; not quite like Dongmin’s – but there is a quiet reassurance in its warmth, in its clean and uncomplicated scent, reminding him of something he can’t quite place.

Homely, fresh, comforting.

Sanha stretches out his hand and Minhyuk takes it. Lets himself to be pulled down.

‘Come on, you grumpy old man. You will feel less pissy after you have fed.’

‘I’m not old. I’m twenty.’

’Yeah, sure,’ Sanha presses against him, arms around Minhyuk’s waist. ‘Perpetual twenty doesn’t count. Your mind is old. Drink and stop thinking.’

The moment his fangs sink into the juncture between Sanha’s shoulder and neck, he forces himself to forget.

To stop thinking.

……………………………..

He wakes up on the couch in Sanha’s living room. There is a blanket over him. The sun is low, streaming through big windows that are taking up the whole western wall, rather close for Minhyuk’s liking, but, mercifully, not touching the couch.

Seeing the light, panic rises in Minhyuk’s throat.

‘Shit! It’s daylight!’

‘Hi!’ Sanha turns away from something he is stirring on the stove in the little kitchen corner.

‘The sun is up!’ Minhyuk repeats and shrinks deeper into the couch.

‘It’s ok,’ Sanha smiles softly. ‘It’s setting, see? It will be over in a minute. You have slept through the whole day.’

Now that he pays more attention, Minhyuk can see that the sun is indeed low, just above the horizon, the rays painting one half of the room warm orange.

Blinding him.

Sanha finishes whatever he was doing in the kitchen corner and comes over, plopping down onto the couch next to him.

‘Do you want to feed?’

Minhyuk gulps. ‘I bit you yesterday. You shouldn’t… shouldn’t do that too often. It’s not good.’

But Minhyuk is weak and all roads to hell are paved with good intentions.

So he kisses Sanha, a feather-light, kittenish lick at the corner of his mouth, and the wave of pleasure hits him, utterly unexpected.

‘Oh, come on,’ Sanha’s sassy smile is utterly at odds with his childish, lanky limbs, still somehow gangly and all over the place. ‘Don’t ruin it.’

He pulls back but doesn’t stop smiling. ‘I do like you, Minhyuk, even if you are a little bit of an asshole – but I don’t want to be your rebound fuck.’

Something hot and uncomfortable washes over Minhyuk and he drops his gaze. ‘Ok. I get it. I’m sorry.’

Sanha laughs a little at his lost expression. ‘No, I don’t think you do. I don’t want us to - I don’t know - fuck or date-‘

He pauses for a moment. ‘I think I want to be your friend first.’

Minhyuk doesn’t like sun but the hole in him is suddenly filled with warmth, something akin to pleasant sunlight.

(Memories from those times way, way back, when he still had a beating heart.)

‘I want to be friends too.’

Sanha beams. ‘Cool. Do you want to go to the arcade?’

‘What is an arcade?’

**Author's Note:**

> I have deliberated for a long time whether to post this or not - it's been sitting in the drafts since that awful Halloween Thursday - but in the end here it is. 
> 
> For all Monbebes and for Wonho. And Shownu. And all of them.


End file.
